The Ring
by Baeowulf
Summary: 4 years have passed since the end of the Covenant/Human war, and the galaxy is at peace. R'vek Kehrim, however, is a Sangheili who, despite his new life with his mate Tira, finds the peace hard to accept. But his world is about to change... with The Ring.
1. Memories

Hello!

This is Baeowulf again! This is the debut of another story, this one on Halo: The Ring! First off, this is a covenant centric story, and as such, there are some things that I should say about the different characters and races.

First off, I am assuming that all covenant races aside from the M'Glek'golo and drones are primate-mammal base with certain characteristics of other animals. I have a couple reasons for this; one is that all of them have opposable thumbs and stand upright: skeletal formation of hands is unique to mammals (research into the embryos of cats, dogs, and marine mammals show that their skeletons actually form hands before conforming to the animals' actual body shape), and the only mammals that stand are primates. Also, they all have the ability to perform combat in arctic environments with no apparent extra gear to insulate and promote body heat. Also, they all have a cerebrum, a trait unique to mammals. As such, I portray the covenant races with essentially a basic human anatomy. I also assume that when the Covenant/Human war ended, the Covenant races split, with the Shan'Shyuum and the Jiralhanae on one side, and all the others forming a pact with the Humans and becoming a system called the Alliance. In this new system, I assume that each world would have a rapid influx of trade goods with the alien worlds trading to the earth and earth trading to the alien worlds, so expect quite a few references to earth-bound products and trends showing among covenant races, especially the Sangheili, because of their especially close-knit ties with the humans, and the Kig-Yar, because of their habits of raiding and piracy, as such causing them to adapt to new styles quickly. Also, some info on the races: Sangheili (Elites) have two hearts, and blue blood, possibly colored this way because their hemoglobin could be dimetallic, meaning it could possibly contain cobalt, which is blue. Also, the Kig-Yar (jackals) have a natural odor of sulfur. They tend to be left handed (though Zek and Jyn are both ambidextrous), and only the males possess spines (the females possess a kind of hardened hide in the spots where males have spines, namely the scalp and forearms, for protection from said spines during mating), and the spines change color based on the current mood of the Kig-Yar.

Now that we have the specifics out of the way, on with the show!

* * *

R'vek Kehrim'ee crouched in the trench, clutching a plasma rifle to his chest. His hearts pounded, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He was a Sangheili minor, barely inducted into the military, and already he could hear the dying screams of his comrades as they fell on the battlefield. He poked his head out from the trench, and his eyes widened in fear. Sangheili, others of his noble race, rampaged across the battlefield, killing any human troops they encountered, only to be crushed beneath the wheels of the Warthogs that sped across the barren wasteland or under the treads of the trundling Scorpions. Banshees and Phantoms sped through the air, viciously combating scores of Hornets and Pelicans, craft on each side plummeting to the ground in raging balls of flame. Unggoy stampeded crazily over the killing fields, and Kig-Yar hid behind their glowing energy shields or crouched with beam rifles on the many tall outcroppings that ringed the combat zone. The ground was stained blue and red from the blood of humans and Covenant alike, and gore covered the barren soil. R'vek took a deep breath, and leaped out of the trench, gripping a plasma grenade in his left hand while steadying his plasma rifle in his right. He saw a Sangheili major surrounded by a group of humans – holding them off, but in desperate need of assistance – and headed towards the soldiers. "Major! Get down!" he shouted, and hurled the plasma grenade into the group. The other Sangheili heard R'vek's cry of warning, and jumped out of the group, turning a complete back flip before he landed. The grenade fastened itself to the helmet of an armored ODST, and the man cried out in surprise just a moment before the small, blue ball exploded. A bright white flash exploded from the grenade, instantly incinerating the armored ODST. The human soldiers screamed as the light tore through their flesh, and their bodies exploded. The Sangheili major jumped to his feet, and ran over to where R'vek stood.

"_What's your name, brother?" he shouted over the din of gunfire. Already human forces had begun to converge on their position, and the two Sangheili warriors stood back-to-back at the top of the plasma scorched hill._

"_R'vek Kehrim'ee, sir!" R'vek shouted back, shooting a marine in the chest._

"_Well then, R'vek, let's try to get out of here alive!" The Sangheili major un-holstered and activated an energy sword, the ancient Sangheili weapon's blade snapping to life with a loud shock. "Tell me; how many battles have you been in, R'vek?"_

"_This is my first!" shouted R'vek, putting bolts of plasma in the skulls of two human soldiers while dodging a burst of fire from a human firearm. The major grunted in reply, and darted off into the crowd of humans. R'vek couldn't pay attention to him; he had his own battles to fight. R'vek brought his rifle to bear, firing into the masses of enemies, slowly making his way towards the human base. He fired left and right, a human soldier falling with each shot. Bullets ricocheted off of R'vek's shields, and suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He looked down, and saw a trickle of his own blue blood dripping down his thigh. R'vek's face paled. He turned and ran, only to find himself surrounded. R'vek grimaced, and leaped into the crowd, smashing his opponents' skulls with the butt of his rifle, firing shots into their growing number. Bullets tore through his flesh, and finally R'vek dropped to one knee, clutching his side in anguish. Suddenly, there was a huge crash. The humans turned, and what R'vek saw gave him one last surge of hope: a Scarab had entered the battlefield. The enormous mobile base sent huge bolts of plasma raining down on the combat below, bright beams of energy from its twin laser cannons slicing through the air. R'vek began to crawl away while the humans were distracted, and slumped into a trench, panting heavily as he heard his shields recharge. Suddenly, there was a huge explosion. R'vek looked out from the trench… and saw the Scarab collapsing in upon itself. In a flash of blinding light, the immense machine exploded. R'vek screamed in pain as a huge chunk of armor plating struck him in the back. The large piece of metal forced him to the ground and crushed his right leg into a mass of bloody flesh and shattered bone. The downed Sangheili watched helplessly as his comrades fell by the score, fighting until they died. He pulled himself out from under the wreckage when he saw one soldier, a soldier feared by all Covenant forces: the Demon. The Demon cut his way through the Covenant legions like a hot knife through butter: every time he pulled his trigger, a Covenant soldier fell dead to the dusty ground. R'vek crawled away, desperate to escape, his eyes wide in abject terror. He felt a sharp kick to his gut, and rolled over to see the Demon standing above him. R'vek was looking down the barrel of a gun, the cold steel amplifying his horror. Slowly, the Demon's finger tightened on the trigger, and –_

R'vek Kehrim sat bolt upright in bed, panting furiously. He ran his hands over his war scarred body, and checked over his prosthetically enhanced right leg, relieved to find that nothing bore wounds. R'vek had changed both physically and mentally from his time in the war: his body wasriddled with scars from bullets, shrapnel, and burns, and his right leg was as much metal as it was flesh. For the most part, his scars had dulled and faded over the years since the end of the war, but three, star-shaped scars showed clearly in his right soldier. R'vek looked down to his side, and smiled softly as he saw his mate sleeping beside him, her chest gently rising with each breath. R'vek lay down, and wrapping his mate in his arms, fell back to sleep.

* * *

Zek crouched in the rafters of the large ship, holding his needler close to his face. The young Kig-Yar smirked; ever since the end of the war, it had all been profit for him. With the Covenant dissolved, there were countless people who wanted certain groups to… go missing, and decent assassins were hard to find. In fact, Kig-Yar snipers and mercenaries were essentially the only competent killers for hire, and former Covenant soldiers were the best. Zek was a former Covenant scout and raider: he specialized in getting in, killing the target, and getting out. Zek steadied his aim as he saw the group of Jiralhanae pass beneath him, and sighted his target: the Prophet of Justice. The "holy" Prophet had worked through the utter destruction of any who opposed him, and had ruthlessly slaughtered hundreds of innocents. It was no surprise Zek's client wanted him dead. Zek slowly tightened his finger around the trigger… and fired. The pink, crystalline needles sped through the air and buried themselves in the back of the Prophet's head. The Prophet of Justice fell to the floor, dead before he hit the ground, and Zek dropped to the floor in the middle of the startled group of Jiralhanae. "Well, Brutes, looks like you made pretty shoddy bodyguards," Zek said, smirking at the bewildered Jiralhanae. Finally, one charged him, a gravity hammer raised high above the Brute's head. Zek's response was to put three needles in the Brute's face. The charging Jiralhanae's momentum carried him forward as he died, and Zek dodged out of the way of the corpse. The body smashed into another Jiralhanae, and the gravity hammer crushed the Brute's skull. Zek felt a breeze on his head spines, and activated his shield and brought it up behind him… just in time to block the incoming gravity hammer. Zek sank to his knees under the blow, and his energy shield shattered under the heavy weapon. Zek cried out in pain as he felt the fragile bones in his arm snap like dry kindling, and grunted as the Brute drove his knee into his stomach. The other two Jiralhanae grabbed Zek by his arms, hoisting the panting Jackal to his feet, while the one who had kicked him punched Zek across the face. The Kig-Yar spat out blood, and along with it, a sharp tooth.

"Not so tough no, are we, Jackal?" said the Jiralhanae mockingly as he rammed his fist into Zek's stomach. Zek felt his ribs snap, and winced in pain. He smiled, and looked the Brute in the eye.

"Yeah," Zek panted heavily, blood dribbling from his mouth, "but unlike you, I'm not dead." The Brute smirked and raised his hammer high above his head… just as a bright beam of energy pierced his skull, drilling a clean hole straight through his head. The other two looked around cautiously, and just before they died, they were able to catch a glimpse of their opponent. Two more beams of pink energy lanced out from the shadows, and the Jiralhanae slumped dead to the steel floor. Zek fell to the floor, the support from the Jiralhanae leaving him. "Heh, took you long enough," he coughed, a grin splayed across his lips. A lithe female Kig-Yar sauntered out from the shadows, smirking. She wore short shorts and a low cut vest, exposing her stomach and the top of her bosom. A beam rifle was slung across her back, and at her hip she wore two plasma grenades and a knife crafted of the same crystalline material as the needles from a needler. On her hands, she wore black, fingerless gloves, and on her feet, black, toeless shoes.

"At least I'm here, right?" she said, smirking. Zek laughed, pushing himself to his feet with his good hand. The female walked over to him, and helped him up. "Besides, I just couldn't help watching you get beaten to a pulp… again." Zek laughed more, slinging his arm over the female's shoulder.

"Jyn, someday you're going to kill me," he said, smiling. Jyn laughed quietly, helping Zek limp toward the hangar.

"Only by not being there to save your spines," she replied. As they reached the hangar, Jyn helped her mate into their ship: it was sleek and black, with red streaks running down the sides: the _Scythe_. It had a slight crescent shape, and was about the size of a house, making use of the space with relatively low ceilings and narrow hallways. The _Scythe_ was both their base of operations… and their home. "Besides," Jyn whispered seductively into Zek's ear, "your injuries prove you fought hard. Maybe I'll… reward you tonight." The spines on Zek's head turned a bright red at her comment, and Jyn laughed; after all this time, Zek still blushed at her more suggestive innuendos. As they boarded the ship, Jyn set the autopilot to take them to Sanghelios. She helped Zek to their bedroom, and the last thing she did before falling onto the mattress with her mate was to activate the bomb she had placed aboard the Jiralhanae flagship.

* * *

R'vek slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of briefs. It was then that he smelled the coffee. R'vek smiled; if there was one thing he liked about the alliance with the Humans, it was their trade goods. From denim to coffee, Humans had some amazing products, and R'vek was all too happy to reap the benefits. He pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt, and walked through the room and into the kitchen. As he entered, he saw his mate, Tira, at the stove, preparing a slab of meat while a pot of coffee brewed on the countertop. She wore a thin, pink robe that came down to about her mid-thigh, and her shapely back was facing R'vek. R'vek smiled, and walked up behind her, wrapping his muscular arms about her slender waist. "Good morning, beautiful," he said lovingly, rubbing his neck against Tira's head. She smiled, and sighed slightly, leaning into his body.

"Good morning," she said softly, taking her eyes off of her cooking for a moment. "Sleep well?" R'vek flinched, and Tira noticed. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. She turned around in his arms, smiling seductively. "I wasn't too much for you last night, was I?" R'vek laughed, grinning playfully.

"No, I slept fine… but not until _very_ late!" he replied, obviously trying to hide something. Tira looked him in the eyes, and sighed.

"It was the dream again, wasn't it?" she said, her eyes concerned.

"The one with the Dem—the Chief?" R'vek stopped mid-sentence, his eyes distant, some long past sense of terror welling in them. "Yeah," he replied. He had almost referred to John 117 by the old Covenant term for the lost "hero", the Demon. R'vek's eyes narrowed; to him, the human who had killed so many of his brothers and crippled his leg was still nothing more than a Demon. He had seen the Spartan fight; how he mercilessly gunned down his opponents, regardless of rank or status. R'vek himself had been shot by the Spartan; three times in the shoulder. The only reason the Spartan hadn't killed him was a lucky break: as the Demon pulled the trigger, he had been shot in the shoulder by the Sangheili major R'vek had met earlier. R'vek had escaped with his life, but at a terrible cost: his right leg was crippled horribly, having to be completely replaced with bionics, and he had three, star-shaped scars along his collarbone. Tira hugged him tightly, and R'vek noticed that he had started shaking.

"It's okay, he's gone," said Tira, whispering into her lover's ear. R'vek sighed, and melted into her shoulder, holding her tight.

"Damn war," he muttered, a single tear rolling from his eye, "messed my life up." R'vek smiled, and pulled out of the hug, his hands on Tira's shoulders. "But I guess one good thing came of the war," he said.

"What's that?" asked Tira, gazing into his eyes.

"I met you." Tira smiled, and the two nuzzled their heads together affectionately, enjoying the simple closeness of one another. R'vek sniffed deeply, and pulled back. "Now what was it you were making for breakfast? Based on my nose, it's something good!" Tira smiled, and turned around, pulling the pan from the stove. A slab of meat was on the iron surface, spices adorning its reddish-brown flesh. A single egg was cooked over it, and R'vek could see a slight dusting of salt. The two young Sangheili smiled, sat down, and ate.

* * *

Zek sat up in bed, rubbing his head. He had a headache that felt like he had been hit by a gravity hammer… then he remembered that he had been. He looked to his side, and saw his mate, Jyn, sleeping peacefully, her naked body enveloped in the folds of the sheets. He smiled, and crawled out of bed, pulling his clothes out of the tangled mess on the floor. He pulled his outfit on, not bothering to shower; his natural odor would cover up his sweat. Zek made his way to the bridge of the _Scythe_, checking their progress towards Sanghelios on the ship's navigator computer. The computer read that they were three clicks away from the planet, and sure enough, Zek could just barely see it in the distance from where he stood, a tiny blue-green dot that grew slightly larger with every passing second. Suddenly, he felt a stabbing pain in his arm. He grabbed it… and remembered that it was shattered. "Right… blocking a gravity hammer means a broken arm," he muttered to himself, staggering towards the ship's medical ward, gritting his sharp teeth. He grabbed a med pack, and began sifting through its contents. He smeared the medigel over his arm, and wrapped his arm in bandages, making sure to properly set the bones. After Zek finished bandaging his arm, he wrapped it in a sling that hung from his shoulder, and applied medigel and bandages to his abdomen. The well muscled Kig-Yar rolled his shoulders, smiling as he heard the satisfying pops from his stiff joints. Suddenly, he heard the bridge door slide open. He whipped around, muscles tense, but relaxed as he saw who it was. Jyn stood in the doorway, a thin sheet wrapped around her naked form. The tension left Zek's muscles, and he smiled. "Morning, Jyn," he said, slowly walking over to his mate. The two embraced, smiling.

"Morning," replied Jyn softly, her eyes closed. She felt Zek pull away, and opened her eyes. That's when she noticed his bandages. Her eyes widened._ Crap!_ she thought, _I forgot to bandage Zek's wounds before last night!_ Zek smiled, knowing what was going through Jyn's head. The awkward moment was broken when Zek's stomach grumbled loudly. His left hand flew to his gut, and he smiled embarrassedly.

"Suppose the, erm… action last night's made me hungry," he said, embarrassed, his spines slowly turning red. Jyn smiled, and quirked her eye.

"So eloquent, Zek," she replied, smirking. "I'm going to go get dressed, then we can eat." Jyn walked out of the room, swerving her hips from side to side in a seductive manner. As the door shut behind her, Zek whistled.

"Wow," he whispered, staring at the door his mate had just used, "she really is something else." Zek walked to the kitchen, and pulled a pan from the cabinet. He opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a package of bacon, one of his personal favorite human foods. Zek ripped the package open with his sharp teeth, and began to cook the bacon in the pan, watching hungrily as the fat popped and the bacon curled. When the bacon was cooked to the point where it had the normal bacon flavor but was still soft, Zek turned off the stove, and began to scramble 4 eggs in another. As he cooked them, he sprinkled salt and some spices and sausage from his native planet onto them, and finally, when the eggs were a reddish-yellow color, he turned off the stove. Zek tasted the eggs, and smiled in satisfaction: they were just right: slightly salty with a vibrant, spicy flavor. Just as Zek was serving the plates, Jyn walked into the room, wearing her signature vest and shorts, but with water evident on her skin. Zek rolled his eyes, smiling to himself; ever since they had gotten a shower from the humans, Jyn couldn't get enough of the thing. Jyn smiled, and licked her lips as she saw the food Zek had prepared.

"Hmm, looks good," she muttered, slowly tasting the eggs and bacon. Her body shivered slightly as the eggs entered her mouth; they were perfect. Zak pulled his chair back, sat down, and ate.

* * *

R'vek picked up the plasma rifle from a long rack of weapons, standing facing the wall. His eyes were stern, and his face was knotted in concentration. A loud beep sounded, and R'vek whipped around, opening fire instantly. Targets popped up across the room from him, some enemies shaped like various flood forms, brutes, and prophets, and some allies, shaped like humans or other covenant races. R'vek fired with a fury, blasting apart the red enemy targets to smoking ruins, tearing them apart even as they emerged from the floor. Each shot he fired met its mark, and despite his rapid rate of fire, he never hit a blue ally target. That is, he never hit a blue ally target until the end of the drill. As he destroyed one of the last red targets, an ally target shaped like the Spartan popped up. R'vek's eyes widened and his heart quickened as adrenaline was pumped into his system, and his instincts took over. He fired shot after shot into the Spartan target, blasting it to shreds of smoking cardboard. Even after the target was demolished beyond recognition, he continued to fire, eventually destroying even the target's metal base. Suddenly, the lights in the training room dimmed, and his rifle discharged its battery. R'vek sighed, knowing that he had failed the test yet again. He walked over to the weapons rack, and placed the rifle back onto it, gazing longingly at the beautiful plasma swords that hung from the elite weapons rack. He walked out of the room, cursing himself: at this rate, he would never earn his gold armor and swords. The commander of the MTF, or Military Training Facility, strode over to him, a look of disappointment on his face. The commander was an old Sangheili who had seen his share of combat, and was now retired from active duty in order to train the younger recruits like R'vek.

"R'vek Kehrim," said the commander, making notes on the clipboard he clutched in one hand, "99% accuracy. Highest firing speed. Veteran of the Covenant/Human war. All in all, our finest student. A shame that your reaction to the image of the Spartan still holds you back." R'vek hung his head, ashamed that his personal sense of fear had yet again overridden his sense of duty. The commander walked up to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, an understanding look on his face.

"R'vek, I understand how you must feel now that the Spartan is regarded as a hero by our people. I saw him kill countless of our brothers, and the destruction he wrought." The commander sighed deeply, thinking. "Times have changed, R'vek. Old hatreds must be wiped away; we are in a new age. Old soldiers like us need to change with it." R'vek's eyes narrowed.

"With all due respect, brother," he said, his voice grim, "I don't think you can understand my feelings toward the De—the Spartan. You didn't see what I saw." R'vek steadied himself, breathing deeply. "He took my leg, brother. He looked me in the eyes from behind that cold mask, all the while slowly tightening his finger on the trigger of his gun. I saw him murder countless of my personal friends, and I nearly saw him kill me. I am sorry, brother, but I don't think you can ever understand the terror that that Human inspires in my soul." The commander looked R'vek in the eyes, searching them for any lies, any discrepancies, any sign of bias. All he saw was fear, fear still present from a memory long past. The commander realized for the first time just how young R'vek had been when that day had happened: six EY had passed, and now R'vek was 23 EY of age. When R'vek had lost his leg, he had been just 17 EY old, a mere child, and he had had to face death. The commander's eyes slowly widened as he realized this, and he realized that R'vek was right: he could never understand what it must have been like for him.

"You're right. I can't." This was all the commander said, in a haunted voice, before turning and walking slowly down the halls. R'vek felt a buzzing from his pocket, and pulled out his communicator. It was a small rectangular device, with a screen, a joystick, an answer and end call button, and 10 buttons each labeled with a different number. He looked at the screen, and saw that he had a message. He opened up the message, and two words displayed on the screen: _You're late._ R'vek cursed under his breath; he hated dealing with those two. R'vek rolled his eyes, cracked his neck, and strode down the halls towards his appointment.

* * *

Zek smiled as he hit the send button on his communicator: that should make that stuck up Sangheili's hearts jump a beat or two. Zek knew how R'vek hated being late to anything, and how much he hated dealing with Kig-Yar of Zek's profession. Zek tightened his fingers around the data-chip Jyn had downloaded from the Jiralhanae vessel's computer; this information was worth a _lot_ of credits. Apparently, the Jiralhanae had discovered something big before Zek took them down, something to do with the old Halo rings. The government, which Zek still "technically" worked for, didn't want to give him any more details, but Zek was fine with that, as long as he got paid. Zek smiled as he heard the heavy footsteps of a Sangheili approach the door, and his grin widened as he saw the doorknob turn and the door open.

* * *

The Prophet of Innocence sat in his chair aboard the Jiralhanae ship, scowling. The dead Jiralhanae on the floor in front of him had told him that the ship sent to investigate the Ring had been destroyed by a pair of Kig-Yar assassins, and along with it the Prophet of Justice had been lost. The destruction of the ship alone was unacceptable, but by two Kig-Yar?! They were practically vermin, not worth the time it took the Prophet to scrape their gore from his shoes! Innocence noticed his hand growing warm, and looked down to see that he had clenched his fist to tight that his clawed fingers had drawn his own blood. He leaned back in his chair, thinking, tapping his claws against the metal armrest. While the recovery ship had been lost, the messenger he had killed had told him that the Kig-Yar responsible had taken the information and were en route to Sanghelios. Already, his _Scepter_ had been directed toward the planet, and he was growing ever closer to exacting revenge on the Covenant that had betrayed him, and to the final completion of the Great Journey.

* * *

Alright, so what do you think? I hope you like it; I've been putting this together for a while now! Anyways, I hope you like this, and more will be up soon!

Sincerely,

- Baeowulf


	2. Beginning

Hello again!

This is chapter 2!

Something I forgot to say before: when the Covenant races are talking amongst other members of their race, assume they are using their native language. If they are talking to other races, assume they are using common (english).

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

A fragment of a ship lies nestled in the brush of an immense jungle. Birds caw in the distance, and the rustling of strange, unknown things moving through the foliage could be easily heard. Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from within the ship. A green-armored fist smashed through the hull, punching a jagged hole in the metal. The hand opened, grasped the lip, and pulled the metal apart. A green boot slid out from the rift, and slowly the man within emerged. He was unnaturally tall, around 7 or 8 feet, and was clad completely in jade armor. On his head, he wore a helmet with a glistening orange visor. The man looked up, examining his surroundings: John-117 had returned.

* * *

R'vek stared down at the Kig-Yar before him, eyes narrow. Zek was an assassin, nothing more. It didn't matter if he was government sanctioned; he was a hired killer, and nothing else. Still, he and his mate Jyn did always get the job done, and R'vek did have to admit that he had witnessed their effectiveness during the Covenant/Human war.

"Well?"asked Zek, tapping his foot impatiently. R'vek noticed the bandages and sling on Zek's arm, and smirked.

"Have a little trouble, Zek?" he asked cockily, smirking. Zek scowled.

"Five Jiralhanae, R'vek," he said coldly, "all armed with hammers. Let's see you do better." R'vek's eyes narrowed.

"Was that a challenge, Kig-Yar?" he said menacingly, fingering the rifle at his belt. Zek stared back at R'vek, and his hand slowly moved towards the needler at his hip. The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity, each staring the other in the eye. Eventually, Zek ended the tension by pulling the data card from his pocket.

"I do believe this is what this meeting concerns?" he said, a smile tugging slightly at his lips. R'vek scowled, rolled his eyes, and began to reach for the card. Zek pulled it away quickly, clutching the fragile card in such a way that he could snap it in two at any second.

"Ah, not so fast, Sangheili," he said, grinning. "Money first." R'vek scowled, and tossed a briefcase onto the table. Zek opened the case, and began inspecting the Alliance bills that were bound in stacks, each stack worth a full 10000 credits. Zek only accepted solid money: digital money was too easy to lie about. Once he verified that all 50 stacks were present, he snapped the case shut, and slid the data card across the glass table to an impatient R'vek. "All data from the downed Jiralhanae ship, as promised." R'vek scowled, took the card, and turned.

"Very well, Zek, you may go." Zek turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment.

"R'vek? Remember the war? We were friends then. Tell me; what's changed?" Zek asked, once again wondering just how their solid friendship forged in the heat of war had been broken. R'vek sighed.

"We took different paths," was all R'vek said, and he walked out the door.

* * *

R'vek slammed the car door as he pulled into his drive; it had been a long day. Hiking his jacket up around his shoulders, he heavily walked to his front door, gloomily turning the handle and walking into his house. He slipped off his footwear, and jogged up the stairs to the living room, hanging his jacket on the coat rack on the stairs. As he reached the living room, he saw Tira at the table reading a news pamphlet. She was wearing a snug blue sweater, and loose fitting denim pants. She set down the digital pamphlet, looking up at R'vek from the couch, her eyes bright.

"Well, how'd it go?" she asked excitedly, referring to the test. R'vek had been preparing himself for that test since he had taken it a month before. R'vek sighed, rolling his head on his neck.

"Ugh, not good," he replied, tired after what truly was a bad day. "99% accuracy, highest firing speed… but a bad reaction to the Spartan target." He sighed, and Tira knew that that wasn't the only thing that had happened during R'vek's day. R'vek sat down next to her, and she draped her arm over his shoulder, leaning her head on it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll get it eventually; after all, even the Commander says that you are his best student. Anything else happen today?" she asked, trying to make it sound casual. R'vek sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," he said, exasperated, "my talk with the Commander after my failed test made me late to a meeting."

"With who?" asked Tira, prying. R'vek replied in one word.

"Zek." Tira sighed, remembering when she had first met the rather unique Kig-Yar. She had been a nurse for the Covenant military at the time, and Zek was her patient around the time R'vek was. Apparently, the strange Kig-Yar had used plasma grenades to trigger an avalanche near a human encampment. After the avalanche was triggered, he had used his shield as a sled and had tried to ride the crushing tide of snow. While he had survived, he had managed to break both his legs. R'vek had met him in combat, and at the time, the two were fast friends. However, after the war, the two had taken different paths, R'vek staying in what he considered an honorable military position, while Zek became a government sanctioned assassin with his mate Jyn. Since then, R'vek had hated his former friend.

"What happened with you two?" she asked, sighing as she snuggled into R'vek's shoulder. "I thought you were friends." R'vek's eyes narrowed.

"Some things are better left unsaid," was all R'vek said. Suddenly, the communicator in his pocket began to buzz. R'vek took it out, and his eyes widened as he saw that the call was from the Arbiter himself. R'vek excitedly showed Tira who the call was from before answering. "Grand Arbiter!" he said excitedly as he answered the call. "To what do I owe this great honor?"

"R'vek Kehrim, based on your recorded accuracy and speed, you are far more competent than most of our gold armored majors that remain alive. I have a mission for you." R'vek's eyes widened, and he beamed with pride: a mission from the Grand Arbiter himself!

"Yes, sir! I will do all in my power to ensure success. What is it you require?" R'vek replied, eager to impress the Arbiter.

"I want you to lead a team of Major and Minor Sangheili to investigate a fragment of a large craft that has landed on our planet. We fear that it may be a fragment of the recently destroyed Halo, or if not, some other Forerunner artifact. As such, it may contain traces of the Flood." At this, R'vek's hearts nearly stopped. The Flood had claimed the lives of thousands of Covenant soldiers, twisting them into hideous monstrosities that fought to the death in service of the tyrannical entity known as the Gravemind. The Arbiter paused, and continued with his instructions. "Anything and anyone aboard that vessel is to be considered hostile; we don't want to risk an outbreak on our home-world. If possible, you are to salvage anything of use on the vessel. After all combat threats and useful items are removed, you are to incinerate the wreckage. While you are not yet of sufficient rank to wield a sword, these are not normal circumstances. For the purpose of this mission, you will be equipped with two plasma swords, three plasma grenades, and a plasma rifle." The Arbiter paused, allowing R'vek time to absorb the information before continuing. "If you are successful in this mission, you will be promoted to the rank of Guardian, effective immediately." R'vek's eyes widened: Guardian was one of the most honored positions a Sangheili could hold. The Guardians numbered in the mere thousands, and each had their own custom suit of armor and set of weaponry. The Guardians were not a part of the official military, but were of an elevated status, and formed nearly their own private government, led directly by the Arbiter. As such, the Guardians could serve as any rank in the military, including taking the position of Shipmaster when necessary. "Do you accept this mission?" R'vek almost laughed at the question.

"Yes, sir!" he responded crisply.

"Good," replied the Arbiter. "A Phantom will arrive at your home tomorrow morning. I will brief you and your troops on board." Though R'vek could not see the Arbiter, he could tell by his voice that he was smiling. "I've heard good things about you, R'vek. I'm looking forward to meeting you face to face." With that, the Arbiter hung up. R'vek lowered the communicator from his face, dumbfounded.

"Well?" asked Tira impatiently. "What was it about?" R'vek turned to face her, his face bright.

"I'm going to be away tomorrow… leading a mission for the Arbiter!" he said, his voice ecstatic. Tira's eyes widened at the news. "What's more is that if I succeed, I will be made a Guardian!" At that, Tira leapt from the couch and into her mate's arms, and the two hugged affectionately. Finally, things were looking up for them.

* * *

Jyn looked up from her computer as Zek walked through the door. He was scowling, and had one hand shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket while the other clutched a steel briefcase. Jyn laughed. "It was that bad, was it?" Zek rolled his eyes, and tossed the case onto the table, popping it open to reveal the 500,000 credits that lay inside.

"Yeah, R'vek hasn't changed since last we talked, that's for sure. At least he keeps his word and actually gives us _real_ money," Zek said, scowling. Suddenly, his communicator began to buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered it, not bothering to check who the caller was first. "Hello?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

"Zek?" replied a voice from the other end of the line. "This is the Arbiter." Zek's eyes widened: if he was getting a call from the Arbiter, it meant he had either done something terribly wrong or incredibly right, and knowing his line of work, it was probably the former.

"Mr. Arbiter!" he exclaimed in surprise, his eyes wide, his spines starting to glow slightly, standing on edge. "I assure, whatever it was, I didn't do it!" Zek heard laughing on the other end of the line, and was slightly relieved; after all, laughing probably meant that the call wasn't a court summons.

"That's not what this is about, Zek," laughed the Arbiter, "although you do have quite the interesting record!" The Arbiter cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "I have a mission in which you and your mate's… unorthodox fighting methods would prove most useful." Zek's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Excuse me, sir, but what so you mean by 'unorthodox'?" he asked, wondering if the Arbiter was insulting him.

"I do believe that attempting to engage five Jiralhanae in single combat and then being bailed out by your mate, Jyn, only after she watched you get beaten to a pulp for amusement could be considered unorthodox, Zek, if not downright insane," replied the Arbiter flatly.

"Touché," said Zek. The Arbiter remained quiet for a moment, and then continued.

"I want you and Jyn to lead a group of Kig-Yar in an investigation of a fragment of a downed vessel. We have reason to believe that this may be either from the recently destroyed Halo or another Forerunner vessel, and therefore it may contain traces of the Flood. While I already have a team of Sangheili for the job, the relative immunity of the Kig-Yar to the Flood could come in quite handy if any Flood forms are discovered." The Arbiter paused, and Zek spoke.

"What's in it for me if I accept?" he asked, thinking.

"If you succeed, your standard rate of 500,000 credits will be paid to you, and you will each receive a bonus of a custom set of weaponry and shield for each of you, plus a specially designed shield generator similar to the ones installed in Sangheili armor." The Arbiter paused, allowing Zek to absorb the considerable reward. "In addition, if either of you should be killed, you—" Zek interrupted the Arbiter, his voice stern.

"Neither of us is going to die, sir," he said firmly, denying the possibility that he could lose Jyn in combat. The Arbiter chuckled from the other end of the line.

"Zek, I admire your dedication to your mate, but no one is immortal. As I was saying, if either of you should die in combat, the living partner will receive a doubled reward and be given the standard grievance period, while the deceased will be remembered as a planetary hero and have an official military funeral befitting a shipmaster. If Jyn is the survivor and she later produces your offspring, the government of Sanghelios will provide her with money to raise the child." Zek scowled.

"I will repeat myself sir:_ neither of us will die._" The Arbiter paused at Zek's comment.

"Very well. Do you accept the mission?" Zek looked down, considering, before smiling mischievously.

"Arbiter, I can't _wait_ to smash some bugs!"

* * *

R'vek stood outside his front door, clad in his old armor. The scratched blue plates glistened in the early morning sun, and a tattered cloak whipped around his body in the wind. The armor still bore small holes in the right leg, and three holes at the loft collarbone; this was the same suit he had worn when he had survived an encounter with the Mater Chief. Since then, R'vek had had many chances to replace his battered equipment, but this armor had saved his life so many times, he just couldn't bear to part with it, and during the war, this scarred suit of armor and his many scars from that first battle had earned him the nickname "scarhide". R'vek heard the door open and close behind him, and smiled. He turned his armored body, and saw Tira standing in the door, her body wrapped in a white, floor length robe. She shivered slightly in the crisp morning air, but she continued outside anyway, walking down the cold stone steps barefoot. R'vek extended a hand to her, allowing his cape to fly behind him in the morning breeze. Tira took his hand, and R'vek saw the worried look in her eyes. As she took his hand, R'vek drew her into an embrace, holding her slender body close against his. He felt her body shaking, and saw a single, glistening tear rolling down her face. "Shh, don't worry," he whispered in her ear soothingly. "I'll be alright." Tira sniffed.

"R'vek… I… I tapped your call with the Arbiter," Tira said softly. R'vek chuckled; he should have known. During the war, Tira had been the nurse who tended to his wounds after his first battle, but she had also held other positions. One of them had been intercepting and decoding enemy messages. She was good at her job. "I know about… about the Flood. R'vek… don't do this! It's not worth your life!" R'vek held his mate close to him, and he began to breathe heavily, taking in her scent as much as he could before he left, knowing that if the Flood was there, this could very well be the last time he saw her.

"Tira, if I don't do this, I will never attain any rank higher than a lesser Major, not even allowed to use a sword in combat. This mission could make me a guardian: the highest level of honor available to our people. If I do this, I may run the risk of death, but if I refuse, I may as well have never lived at all." He smiled, and rested his head on Tira's. "Besides, I survived an encounter with the De—" R'vek stopped himself, then realized that he had no reason to: to him, the Spartan would always be a Demon. "The Demon; I hardly think a few parasitic insects will be any trouble!" A loud whirring noise faded into the crisp air, and a sleek Phantom landed behind him, its purple plated doors sliding open with a loud whoosh. R'vek pulled out of the hug, Tira's delicate hand still clasped in his. He looked her in the eyes, and almost changed his mind. "I will return," he said, and turned, reluctantly leaving his mate. R'vek climbed into the Phantom, and looked over his men: they were a group of Majors and Minors, all of them ready and well equipped. Some of the higher ranking Majors looked at him with disdain, obviously not liking that they were to be led by someone of such a low rank as him. One, however, one Major clad in red armor, slouching in his seat, looked up at him with a sly look of recognition.

"Hello, Scarhide," said the older major, grinning. "Looks like you made it out alive." R'vek's eyes widened: it was R'tak, the major who had saved him from the Spartan during his first battle!

"R'tak?" R'vek whispered in surprise; he had thought that John – 117 had killed him! R'tak smiled, nodding.

"Yes, Kehrim, it's me. Somehow, I managed to survive tackling the Chief; now _that_ was a story to tell the little ones!" R'tak chuckled, and looked around R'vek, to see Tira, still standing out in the morning air, her hands clasped at her robe's neckline. R'tak whistled, grinning. "R'vek, I see you've got quite the little flower waiting for your safe return!" he laughed, and R'vek shifted uneasily on his feet. R'tak pulled R'vek into a seat next to him, and looked at Tira. "Don't worry!" he shouted, waving. "I'll make sure he doesn't get too banged up!" With that, the doors on the Phantom slid closed, and the aircraft lifted off the ground, speeding away from the hillside where R'vek lived. Once they reached cruising altitude, R'vek got up out of his seat, walking towards the pilot seat. The Pilot was a young Sangheili in aqua armor, and R'vek could tell by his size and youth that he was a Minor. R'vek was surprised to see one so young in this position: sure, R'vek himself was only 23, but he had gained experience through fighting in the Covenant/Human war. This kid looked to be no older now than R'vek was when he had first entered the war: 17!

"Excuse me, brother, but would you tell me exactly where we're headed?" "R'vek asked, and the young pilot flicked the autopilot switch, swiveling around in his chair to face R'vek. As their eyes met, the young Sangheili's eyes widened.

"R'vek Kehrim?" he said, bewildered. "Scarhide?! I knew that we were having an impressive soldier as our leader in this mission, but I didn't think it would actually be you!" R'vek blinked slowly: how had the Minor known not only his full name, but his wartime nickname as well?!

"Do… do I know you?" asked R'vek, surprised. The youth smiled, beaming.

"Of course I do! Do you have any idea what happened back here after you faced the Master Chief? Yours and R'tak's pictures were all over! My friends and I used to pretend to reenact the scene where you survived your encounter; I can't believe I'm actually talking to you!" R'vek's eyes narrowed; this kid didn't know what he was talking about.

"What's your name, brother?" asked R'vek, his voice stern

"Ir'kas Vallum, sir!" the youth replied with a salute. R'vek rested his hands on the pilot seat's armrests, and stared Ir'kas in the eyes.

"Let me tell you something, Ir'kas. See my leg?" said R'vek, pointing to his right leg. Ir'kas nodded uneasily, beginning to regret his enthusiasm. "This leg was crushed by a fragment of Scarab armor flying through the air with faster than a Ghost. It had to be amputated; I've got metal there now. See these holes?" R'vek said, pointing to the holes in his armor at his left collarbone. "These are the holes the Spartan's bullets left when he shot me. He wasn't aiming for my shoulder; he was aiming for my head. R'tak tackled him, and threw off his aim before he could kill me." R'vek scowled, moving closer to Ir'kas' face until the Sangheili Minor had to lean his long neck back to put his eyes an inch away from R'vek's. "I stared down the barrel of his gun, Ir'kas. He walked up to me as I was desperately crawling away, kicked me over, and put his gun in my face, looking me in the eyes the entire time. Trust me; you do _not _want to be me." With that, R'vek stood up straight, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. Ir'kas' eyes were wide, and his face looked shocked.

"Yes sir," he whispered, trying to absorb what his childhood hero had just told him. "We're headed to an area in the jungles to the south; not much population there, so if there is Flood at the crash site, it should be relatively easy to contain." R'vek nodded, and returned to his seat. Soon, he would finally achieve his full potential. Soon.

* * *

Zek helped Jyn into the Phantom, hoisting her up onto the high platform inside the ship. A group of about twelve other Kig-Yar sat casually in the drop-ship, many leaning their elbows on their knees. They were all carrying a few grenades and a shield generator, and they each had their own personal choice of weapons, some with beam rifles, while others carried pistols or needlers. A couple of them even wore a crystalline dagger at their belts. Zek stumbled as the ship took off, and cursed loudly at the pilot in his native tongue. The response he got was the pilot's extended third finger sticking out from the cockpit. Zek rolled his eyes: he just _loved_ working with others. He and Jyn walked over to a pair of seats and sat down, both of them fingering their weapons. Even though the Kig-Yar around them were allies, that didn't make Zek any more comfortable around them. In fact, it made him more worried: when the people around you were enemies, at least you knew that they were going to try and shoot you. Jyn sighed, wrapping her hand around the hilt of her blade. The Kig-Yar next to Jyn was a tall, lanky male, with surprisingly long and sharp spines. He wore a beam rifle across his back, and at his belt hung not a crystalline dagger, but a full-fledged cutlass. He looked down at Jyn, and smiled lightly, looking down the front of her shirt.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning over next to her, "nice set you got there." Jyn's eyes snapped wide, one eyebrow quirked.

"Excuse me?" she said, slowly beginning to pull her knife out of its sheath. The male grinned, his eyes flicking from Jyn's eyes to her chest every few moments.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he replied, a hungry grin on his face. His right hand idly moved to his belt buckle, toying with the metal latch. "How 'bout we go to the back of the ship, and I show you what a _real _man is!" The male laughed. Jyn breathed heavily, trying to control her anger. Unfortunately, this only attracted the male's attention more as her chest heaved.

"I'm sorry, but I'm taken," she said, her voice strained. The male didn't seem to like that too much.

"That wasn't a request, little flower!" he shouted, grabbing Jyn by the shoulder and twisting her around. Jyn whipped her blade out of its sheath and stabbed him in the shoulder, elbow, and wrist in quick succession before shoving his hand off of her and slicing one of his fingers off. The tall male howled in pain as blood spurted from his wounds, grasping his cut wrist tightly with his other hand. Jyn slid out of her seat and onto the floor, kicking high and catching the male under the chin. He flew out of his chair and landed with a loud crash on the metal floor, and some of his ribs snapped loudly with the impact. Jyn walked over to him and kicked him over so she could see his face. His eyes were wide in rage, and his mouth was in a snarl.

"Why you little – " Jyn pulled out a pistol and shot him in both legs and the left arm before he finished his sentence. He howled in agony, tears of pain and rage flowing from his eyes. Jyn stood tall above him, looking down at him coldly.

"Some flowers have thorns," she said coldly. Jyn stomped her foot into his crotch, and his eyes went wide before she kicked him across the temple, knocking him out. Jyn rolled her eyes, and walked back to her seat, shaking her head. The other Kig-Yar who had been watching the fight went back to whatever it was they had been doing before, some picking their teeth, others reading, and others cleaning their guns. Jyn looked angrily at Zek. "Why didn't you do anything?!" she demanded, furious with him. Zek laughed.

"Because I didn't want to get in the way and wind up like that guy!" he said, pointing to the unconscious Kig-Yar in the middle of the floor whose blood was already beginning to pool around him. Jyn smirked, realizing that that was probably a possibility if Zek had decided to help.

"Yeah, that or you'd try to reason with him and he'd chop your head off," replied Jyn, chuckling. "I just hope I stomped him hard enough: wouldn't want him to try to pull something like that again." Zek laughed, rubbing his brow.

"If he's dumb enough to try that on you again, Jyn, he already would have gotten killed trying it on a Sangheili!" Jyn smiled, but her smile died away quickly when another Kig-Yar male took a seat next to her. This one was small and thin, his limbs and body extremely spindly. A leather trench coat was wrapped around his shoulders, concealing his body, and his eyes were shifty looking. The spines on his head were thin and unhealthy, and Jyn could just barely see the hilt of a spiker poking out from his coat. Jyn rubbed her forehead, annoyed. "Please don't tell me I'm going to have to do that again," she said, her hand grasping the hilt of her knife. The male next to her laughed in a raspy voice, his strange laughter dissolving into a coughing fit towards the end.

"No, no, I'm not here for that," he said in a raspy voice, indicating what "that" was by pointing to his belt. "That was some pretty impressive fighting there; I didn't think anyone could take down Byk so quickly." The odd Kig-Yar coughed, and proffered his gloved hand. "I'm Mek, that dumb clod on the floor's twin brother." Jyn shook his hand, still holding the hilt of her knife.

"No offense, but you two don't exactly look alike," she said. Jyn was right; while Byk had been approaching the height of a short Sangheili, Mek was about half a foot shorter than she was, and while his brother was a muscle-bound idiot, Mek had a withered frame while his eyes belied some kind of cunning intelligence. Mek laughed again, this time his raspy, withered laugh drawing Zek's attention.

"I know," laughed Mek, grinning eerily. "When we were hatched, I was barely alive, while my brother was stronger than most infants. However, as we grew, I was always the more clever of the two, and often had to get him out of tight spots." Mek laughed. "He was such a bully that eventually I stopped caring!" Jyn glanced nervously at Zek; this withered Kig-Yar seemed thoroughly insane!

"If you don't mind my asking," said Zek, cautiously, "exactly why _did_ you come over here?" Mek's response was to pull open his jacket. From the inside of the leather coat hung rows of small weapons, ranging from odd looking grenades to long, slender blades.

"Well, when I saw your mate here fight, I thought she might be interested in one of these," said Mek, grinning, as he pulled out one of the blades. It was about two feet long, slender, and curved slightly along its length. The edge was far finer than that of Jyn's dagger, and looked like it could slice through even Sangheili armor. Jyn whistled, staring at the sword. "Well?" asked Mek, grinning. "What do you think?" Jyn smiled.

"How much?" she asked, and Mek grinned.

"I'd normally go higher for my handcrafted blades, but after seeing your fighting… I'd say around 100,000 credits." Jyn's eyes widened. 100,000 credits! That was insane!

"You've got to be kidding me!" she yelled. Mek just grinned.

"Maybe this will change your mind," he said, activating his defense gauntlet. Mek took the sword and plunged it toward the shimmering shield. The two met… and the sword passed straight through. Jyn's eyes widened: the shield didn't break, and the sword wasn't repelled. It just slid through the shield as though it were water! Jyn thought for a moment.

"50,000?" she said. Mek thought before replying.

"75, no less."

"50 now, and 25 after testing. Final offer," said Jyn. Mek thought for a moment, and proffered his hand.

"Deal." Mek and Jyn shook hands, and Jyn handed Mek the 50,000 credits as he handed her her new sword. The ship jolted, and began to descend. The pilot came on the intercom.

"All personnel prepare for landing," said a feminine voice over the intercom. "And would the moron who cussed me out earlier please report to the cockpit to receive his parachute, he will be dropping from this altitude." A chorus of snickers arose from the cabin, and Zek rolled his eyes and walked toward the cockpit. A few minutes later he returned with a card.

"What's that?" Jyn asked. Zek showed her the card. It had a phone number and the words "call me" written on it. Zek snickered.

"Obviously the pilot didn't know that I was one of the people leading this mission. She tried to get on my good side by inviting me over to her place for some 'fun'." Zek paused, as Jyn was scowling. "I told her that I already had a mate." That's when Zek broke out laughing. "Apparently, so did she!" Jyn and Zek laughed as the ship descended into the foliage. Neither of them could have known what was about to come.

* * *

John-117 ran through the foliage, smacking his way through branches and brush, trampling plants underfoot. Finally, he began to see the dense jungle ending, and he burst out into a wide open plain. He looked up, and his eyes widened beneath his visor. "Oh… crap." he muttered. A voice piped up in his ear, and the Chief was relieved to hear it.

"What is it, Chief?" asked Cortana, wondering what could elicit such a response from the John-117. That's when she looked for herself. The terrain in front of them gradually sloped upwards in a large ring, eventually curving so far away that they could no longer see where it went. Small planets were suspended in the center, and the sun was contained within the ring. They were on an immense Halo.

* * *

Okay then! Zek and R'vek are on the same mission (though neither know it :P), and the chief is on a Halo that encircles a solar system!

It's going to be interesting to see how this turns out...

Until next time,

- Baeowulf


	3. Flood

Hello!

Alright, Chapter 3 up. Note that not all my updates will be this fast.

Some more info:

EY = Earth Years (standard Alliance year unit)

Pronunciation for names:

Ir'Kas = ear-kahs

R'vek = ruh-veck

R'tak = er-tack

Jyn = jyin

Zek = zeck

Byk = bick

Mek= meck

Tira = teera

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

R'vek jumped out of the Phantom as it landed, landing on the soft, spongy ground of the jungle with a loud thud. He sniffed the air, and listened deeply to the jungle. It wasn't what he heard or what he smelled that disturbed him; it was the lack of it. He couldn't hear or smell any of the jungle's creatures; all he could hear were the sounds of his troops jumping to the ground from the dropship. "It's too quiet," he muttered under his breath, absentmindedly reaching under his armor and grasping the necklace that Tira had given him on the day of their betrothal. It was three hollow circles of gold that revolved on pins, with a silver crescent in the center: a symbol of the suns and moon, of male and female, of their eternal bond. R'vek lifted the amulet on its long chain and pressed it to his forehead. R'tak walked up behind him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You really are lucky, R'vek," he said, patting his friend on the back. "Not all of us are blessed with a mate like yours." R'vek looked at R'tak, confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his brow furrowed. R'tak sighed.

"Before the war, I had a mate and two children; a boy and a girl. They were my life. They accompanied me when I went to fight on the first Halo. When it was destroyed, I escaped." R'tak paused, looking down. "They didn't." R'vek's eyes widened; he didn't know how much the war had cost R'tak. R'tak looked him in the eyes, his gaze steely and cold. "R'vek… if there are Flood here, you damn well better be going back home. No one should experience my loss. No one." R'vek placed his hand on R'tak's shoulder, looking him in the eye not as a superior, but as a friend.

"R'tak, 6 years ago you saved my life. If there are Flood here… we're both going home." R'vek patted his friends shoulder and turned to face his troops. "Brothers!" he yelled, raising his sword into the air, reveling in the crackling energy of the blade. "Today, we go not to war on some foreign world, but to the defense of our homes, our mates, our young!" R'vek paused, and to his surprise, some of his soldiers cheered, and even the ones who had seems to hate him most for leading them seemed to be at least slightly inspired. "You know that there may be Flood here; if there is, it must not be allowed to spread. If it does, all we hold dear will be destroyed, and our planet will be consumed by the Unholy Parasite!" A chorus of cheers erupted from his troops, and R'vek reveled in it. "Today, we fight not for glory, but for our very lives! Onward!" With that, R'vek jogged into the forest, his troops in tow. His wrist com began to beep, and he hit the button on it. A small picture of the Arbiter appeared on the tiny screen, and R'vek nodded to show the Arbiter that he was listening.

"R'vek, there is a slight change of plans," said the Arbiter calmly, his voice toneless. "You are to proceed on a detour 1 km to the east to meet up with a team of Kig-Yar who will be accompanying you. They will be landing in a Phantom near a waterfall. They are to be your scouts and ranged support for the purpose of this mission." The Arbiter hung up, and R'vek rolled his eyes.

"Great, Kig-Yar are exactly what we need," he muttered sarcastically. He brought his hand up to signal a halt, and his troops stopped behind him. He turned to face them, his tattered cloak hanging limp about his armored form. "The Arbiter has informed me that there has been a change in plans; we are to rendezvous with a group of Kig-Yar at a waterfall to the east; move out!" R'vek turned back around and continued to jog, this time in an eastern direction. He scowled; Kig-Yar were nothing but a bunch of thugs and assassins: they shouldn't be serving among his honorable brothers. R'vek would not look forward to this. He had no idea how right he was.

* * *

Zek jumped down from the Phantom, landing gracefully on the rocky cliff at the waterfall. His arm had pretty much healed by now, and it no longer needed the sling. Then Jyn dropped down behind him, her sword clutched in her left claw, and behind them, the rest of the Kig-Yar troops hit the ground, as silent as leaves falling on a pillow. R'vek hooked his thumbs into the pair of needlers at his belt, and pulled them into his hands, spinning them around in a full circle as he unholstered them. He raised his left hand, allowing his gun to hang from his thumb, and motioned for the snipers in the group to take position. Without a sound, the Kig-Yar carrying beam rifles except for Jyn scattered around the clearing, climbing up trees with the agility and grace of spiders. After the snipers had taken position, R'vek motioned for the close-combat specialists to hide and take cover. The remaining Kig-Yar ran behind rocks or into small pits. Mek concealed himself in a bush, while his brother Byk hid as close to the female pilot as possible: namely, beneath the Phantom. Zek looked at the clock on his timepiece impatiently; where were those Sangheili? He chuckled under his breath, remembering how R'vek had been late to their meeting. "Are all Sangheili incapable of keeping a schedule?" he mused to himself. Suddenly, the group heard a rustling in the brush, and a single, blue-clad Sangheili emerged from the bushes. He had a tattered grey cloak wrapped around his armored body, and three holes lined the armor above his collarbone. Zek's eyes widened, and his lip twitched. "Forerunners be damned," he muttered: the Elite that stood in the brush was R'vek.

R'vek shoved his way through the dense foliage, pushing through the twigs and branches that got in his way. He cursed as he smashed his toe against a large root; these Kig-Yar had better be good. As he pushed his way through the last few branches, he saw two lone Kig-Yar standing on a rock in front of a Phantom. They were a male and a female, and they stood proud and tall, surprising for their race. The female clasped a crystalline sword in her left hand, while the male wielded two needlers, one in each claw. R'vek's eyes widened as he realized who they were: Zek and Jyn, the only ambidextrous Kig-Yar he had ever heard of. R'vek walked out into the clearing, his troops following close behind him. R'vek heard various whispers from behind him, ranging from "is this it?" to "what happened to the rest of them?". "Zek!" shouted R'vek angrily. "What are you and your mate doing here?!"

"I could ask you the same thing, R'vek!" replied Zek, catching the other Sangheili off guard: never before had they heard a Kig-Yar address a member of their noble race with such impertinence!

"I was sent by the Grand Arbiter himself to lead this mission! Now, for the last time, I demand to know what you are doing here!" R'vek's eyes narrowed, and Zek laughed.

"Oh really? Well, for your information, he contacted me to lead my force of Kig-Yar on this mission!" At this, R'vek looked puzzled, before laughing.

"What force? All I see is you and that wench Jyn!" R'vek shouted, taunting Zek. Zek's eyes snapped wide in rage, and he grinned.

"This one," he said, snapping his fingers. Immediately a dozen Kig-Yar dropped from the trees and leapt out from behind bushes and rocks, guns at the ready. R'vek's Sangheili were taken completely off guard, as their force of eight was now faced with a group of twelve armed Kig-Yar, half of which were snipers. The Sangheili were surrounded by the Kig-Yar, and slowly, they began to huddle back to back in a defensive formation. Zek jumped down from his perch, falling a full 20 feet before landing gracefully on the ground, and slowly walked towards R'vek. His eyes were wild, and his right eye twitched. The Kig-Yar before him parted to let him through, and he walked straight up to R'vek, the eight-foot tall Sangheili dwarfing his six-foot frame. "Don't you _ever_ talk like that about Jyn," he said, in a menacing whisper. It wasn't the tone or anger in his voice that was intimidating; it was the utter lack of it. Suddenly, R'vek felt a dagger at the back of his neck.

"It's not polite," whispered Jyn. Zek put up his hand, and opened it so that his palm was exposed but his fingers were touching. The other Kig-Yar, including Jyn, vanished back into the trees and the bushes, silently shuffling away. Zek turned, and began to walk off into the brush.

"We'll cover you from the trees; the sooner this mission is over, the better," he grumbled, and vanished into the trees. From behind him, R'vek could hear Ir'kas whistle through his teeth.

"Those Kig-Yar mean business!" the youth exclaimed. R'vek rolled his eyes in annoyance, and signaled his troops to follow him into the brush.

* * *

R'vek cautiously approached the ship fragment, signaling for his men to fan out around it. In one hand, he held his sword, and in the other, a grenade. The fragment glistened in the sunlight, the light reflecting off of its bright metal panels. It was massive; he could fit his house inside twice over. R'vek made his way ahead of the ring of Sangheili towards the heavy door on the fragment, and he heard the faint sounds of each and every Kig-Yar in the trees readying their weapons. He pressed his hand on the door, and it depressed into the fragment before sliding out of the way. R'vek jumped back, and raised his arm to throw the grenade, but there was nothing there; only the skeletons of Sangheili and Humans alike. He motioned for his men to follow him, and he slowly walked into the cavernous bowels of the old ship. As he walked in, he began to get the feeling that something was wrong. The dusty bones of every Alliance race littered the interior, but not even a single tooth of a Jiralhanae was present. This was no battle; these corpses had been staged. R'tak walked up behind him, his eyes shifting every which way.

"I don't like this, R'vek. Something's wrong," he said, and R'vek nodded.

"So you can feel it too," he replied. The group of Sangheili continued into the bowels of the ship, until they reached a large battered door. R'vek signaled a halt, and pressed his hand on the door. It opened, and something swung out in front of him. R'vek jumped back, lashing out with his sword. He heard a dry crack, and saw that he had just stabbed a Sangheili skeleton. Its mandibles were frozen open in terror, and its arms were fractured. R'vek deactivated his sword, and pushed the skeleton, muttering a soft prayer as he entered the room. The sight inside was ghastly; corpses of Alliance warriors were littered about the room, their blood splattered on the walls. On further examination, R'vek saw to his horror, that these were not just soldiers. The corpses of males, females, and children alike of nearly every Alliance race littered the floor, their faces frozen in terrified expressions, many with tear streaks running down their faces. R'vek heard one of his troops wretch behind him, and R'tak walked up behind him.

"What is this?" he asked incredulously, unable to comprehend the sheer level of carnage.

"I don't know, but this was no fight; this was an execution," R'vek replied, readying his blade. The blue energy sword sprung to life with a loud crack, illuminating the room. In the light, R'vek saw another corpse. It was a female Sangheili, puncture wounds in her chest over both her hearts, her head hung limply on her neck, and her wrists were chained to two control terminals, suspending her in the air like a crucified criminal. A long gash ran down her back, and a huge spray of blood coated the wall behind her. Suddenly, R'vek realized that the blood wasn't a spray, but a message, painted in the gore of the female. The dripping letters read a terrifying message: _The Great Journey is coming!_ Suddenly, R'vek and his troops heard skittering noises in the air vents. The vents exploded outwards, and small, insectoid forms accompanied by horrible, disfigured versions of alliance races poured out, roaring and shrieking. R'vek's men opened fire immediately, and the macabre hordes charged forwards: the Flood was upon them.

* * *

Muahahaha! The flood are upon R'vek and his troops, and Zek and Jyn don't even know of the threat! Will they survive? Or will our heroes fall prey to the Parasite?

Find out in the next thrilling installment of...

The Ring.

Until next we meet,

- Baeowulf


	4. Doom

Hello! Wow, a chapter a day! Haven't had this update rate in a long time! Anyways, I hope you guys are enjoying this story. Side note, Tyf is pronounced teef. Also, if you notice any discrepancies that go against canon, please PM me about it so that I can get to fixing them as soon as possible!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

R'vek stared in horror as the wave of fleshy monstrosities tore towards him, shrieking and roaring gutturally. He took a step back and flung a grenade into the vents, blasting them shut. Bits of brown flesh rained down from the ceiling, spattering wetly against the floor. R'vek watched in horror as the infection forms began burrowing into the corpses. The bodies twisted horrifically, bones snapping and flesh tearing to conform to the shape the Flood deemed fit. Suddenly, he heard a grunting sound. R'vek shot the parasite in front of him with his plasma rifle, sending steaming chunks of flesh flying to the ground, and turned towards the noise. His eyes widened; the female Sangheili who was suspended by the control panels was still alive! She was just beginning to wake up, and slowly began moving her neck, moving as though drugged. R'vek sliced his way through the sea of Flood, efficiently incinerating any of the insects that got close to him. He sliced the metal chains that held the female's hands to the control panels, and she collapsed to the floor, breathing shallowly. She tried to get up, but her hands, slick with her own dried blood, slipped out from under her. R'vek grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder, sheathing his sword and drawing his rifle instead. He blasted the Flood around him, and began fighting his way back to his men, who were futilely trying to stem the flow of Flood. R'tak blasted a path for him, and R'vek ran through, the Sangheili draped over his shoulder. "What are you doing?! Why are you grabbing corpses?!" shouted R'tak over the din, all the while firing at the Flood.

"She's not dead!" shouted R'vek as he opened fire. "She might be able to tell us what happened here!" An infection form leaped from the crowd and latched onto one of R'vek's troops. The Sangheili screamed as its tendrils burrowed into his face, tearing at the insectoid creature futilely. Slowly, his skin began to warp and change color. Suddenly, a huge hole appeared in his head, and his body fell to the ground, steaming. R'vek looked at R'tak in shock: his friend had just shot one of their own troops! "What was that for?!" R'vek demanded, slowly walking backwards with his troops.

"He was infected!" replied R'tak, throwing down his rifle and drawing a pair of spikers from his belt. He opened fire into the horde of Flood, the rounds flying from his guns tearing them to shreds. "He would have become one of them!" R'vek nodded grimly; in this fight, allies could become enemies. He began to think how he could get him and his troops out alive, and it came to him.

"Incendiary units, forward rank!" he shouted, thrusting his arm forward. Two Sangheili clad in bright orange armor strode forward, shifting through the rest of the group. Their armor was bulky, and on the back it had a large tank that attached to a long barreled gun by a rubber tube. They moved to the front of the group, and opened fire. Jets of orange flame poured from their guns' nozzles, beating back the flood in a wave of fire. The freakish creatures shrieked as their flesh burned, their brown, soft flesh blackening and falling off of their bodies in charred clumps. The two veteran Sangheili stared emotionlessly as horrific creatures that were once Alliance citizens dissolved in their fiery torrent, spreading their destruction. "Fall back!" cried R'vek, firing the last of his ammunition into the hordes that encroached upon them. "All troops retreat to the Phantoms! Prepare for evac!" R'vek and his men ran out of the room, the two incendiary units slowly walking backwards behind them. The vents exploded outwards, and swarms of Flood spilled out, engulfing the two Sangheili, sending them screaming to their doom. The Flood surged down the hallway after the fleeing Sangheili, shrieking thirstily. The infection of Sanghelios had begun.

* * *

Zek almost fell out of the tree as he heard the sound of gunshots from within the downed fragment. He signaled for his troops to ready their weapons, and the silent jungle echoed with the clicks of weapons being loaded and cocked. Zek held both one of his needlers in front of him, his right hand grasping a grenade at his belt. He heard an explosion, followed by horrific shrieks and roars. Suddenly, there were two bloodcurdling screams, and the Sangheili team burst through the doors, missing three of their members, and most importantly both of their incendiary troops. Zek's eyes widened in horror as they turned and began firing into the enemy that was encroaching on them: a literal sea of Flood poured out of the door, occasional combat forms among the hordes of carriers and infectious insects. His jaw dropped, and he muttered a silent oath. He flung the grenade into the sea of parasites, decimating a good sized circle of them. Almost immediately, ammunition flew out of the trees, pink beams and needles slicing through the combat forms while balls of green-white plasma scorched the infection and carrier forms. As their rotten flesh dissolved, the carriers exploded, releasing swarms of flood onto the battlefield. To his horror, swarms of the insect-like creatures had begun crawling up the trunks of the trees. One of his troops screamed as the insects reached him and began devouring him alive. The sniper tore at them futilely and fell to the ground screaming as his body disappeared beneath the sea of Flood. "Abandon position!" Zek shouted, leaping from his perch to the ground, blasting a space in the hordes of Flood before landing. His troops hit the ground around him, and a few more of them fell screaming to the ground as their flesh was torn apart by the Parasites. "Jyn!" he shouted, slicing a path through the parasites, searching for his mate. That's when he saw her. She was jumping from spot to spot on the jungle floor, her pink crystal sword flashing in the light of Sanghelios' triple suns. In her right hand, she held a plasma pistol, and she danced through the seas of Flood with the grace of a panther, cutting down all in her path. Zek cut his way through to R'vek, joining up with the forming group of Kig-Yar and Sangheili. "R'vek!" he shouted, glancing into the seas of Flood. "Wha- what in the Void are you doing?!" he shouted, noticing the injured female Sangheili slung over his shoulder. She didn't look good; a long gash ran down her back, and two puncture wounds were evident in her back, just above where her hearts should be. What was left of her clothes hung from her body in tattered shreds, and two spikes of Jiralhanae craft were stabbed through her wrists, broken links of chain hanging from the loops at their ends.

"There were a number of corpses aboard the fragment!" replied R'vek, desperately trying to fend off the Flood. "We thought she was one of them, but she began to wake up just as the Flood started pouring into the room! I ran and cut her loose from her bindings; her wrists were chained to a couple control panels! The bodies in there were not from combat; women and children lay among them! Maybe she can tell us what happened!" Zek nodded, smirking.

"I just find it odd that you've got a practically naked female slung over your shoulder!" he shouted, taunting R'vek. R'vek's face darkened, gaining a slight bluish tint as blood rushed to his face. "Aren't you married?" R'vek rolled his eyes, and blasted a carrier form that was once a Jackal between the eyes. The twisted Kig-Yar's bulbous back exploded as it fell to the ground, releasing dozens of parasites.

"That could be you!" shouted R'vek. This time, it was his turn to grin. Zek laughed, unloading a clip from each needler into the crowd, blasting apart 40 infection forms, each needle flying straight to its target. "Just like old times!" he shouted, quickly reloading his guns. "Only then, we were fighting our 'good friends' the Humans instead of fighting for our lives against Forunner-damned zombies!" R'vek chuckled, and he had to admit, it was good to be able to fight alongside his former friend. A couple of the Kig-Yar in the group scoffed. To no one's great surprise, it was Byk and his brother Mek.

"Why are you talking to that stuck up Sangheili?!" shouted Byk, scowling, clutching a grenade in his now two-fingered right hand. "Leave him to fight; you and I both no they don't have time for the lower castes like us!" R'vek was stung at Byk's comment.

"What was that about?" he asked Zek. Zek laughed.

"Don't worry about it! It's just that a lot of us who were considered lower castes during the time of the Covenant, like the Kig-Yar and the Unggoy, still hold a grudge against the higher castes because they were prohibited to learn, and often form real familial groups!" Zek laughed. "Knowing that dumb clod, I'm surprised he EVER learned to read!" R'vek smiled, but his smile vanished as he saw the Flood escaping into the jungle. As he saw the parasites beginning to ignore them and instead looking for easier prey, R'vek's face grew pale: his home was in jeopardy.

"All troops retreat to the Phantoms! Fall back!" he shouted, beginning to blast his way through the hordes. The remaining Kig-Yar and Sangheili ran behind him, desperately trying to hold off the Flood. As they ran, a huge explosion could be heard from the fragment. Byk and Mek stopped, turning around just in time to see the entire ship fragment explode into shrapnel. Their mistake cost them their lives. While the other were able to jump out of the way, Byk's head was severed from his neck by a flying piece of metal, while his brother Mek met his death when two long metal beams skewered him through the chest, pinning him to the ground like some macabre puppet. The two brothers' spines blackened as they died, and their eyes rolled back into their heads. Ir'kas screamed in agony as his leg was pierced by a piece of shrapnel, but he got up, and began limping along behind the others. Suddenly, R'vek heard a scream: it was Ir'kas. The young Sangheili screamed in terror as the Flood swarmed over him, dragging him down. His screams ended as a pair of Flood Unggoy ran up to him and beat him to death. R'vek turned, running towards the Phantoms as fast as he could. His men fell left and right around him; by the time they reached the Phantoms, only a few of them remained: all that were left were R'vek, Zek, Jyn, the Kig-Yar pilot, and R'tak. The diminished group ran towards the ships, and clambered into the nearest one, abandoning the other. As they jumped in, the Flood began to swarm the ship, crawling up the sides. The female Kig-Yar pilot jumped into the cockpit, and tried to take off, but to her horror, they were stuck.

"Something's got hold of the landing gear! I can't lift off!" she cried, panic rising in her voice. R'tak sighed, staring at his feet. He knew what he had to do. He jumped out of his seat, and flung open the doors of the Phantom, drawing his sword.

"R'tak!" shouted R'vek, who had laid his sleeping charge in a seat next to him. "What are you doing?!" R'tak looked back at him, his eyes solemn.

"Go, R'vek. I am lost," was all he said before jumping out of the Phantom and into the sea of Flood slicing them apart. R'vek leaped out of his seat, charging for the door.

"R'tak!" he shouted, but Zek and Jyn had grabbed his arms, holding him back.

"R'vek!" shouted Jyn, straining against the Sangheili's massive strength. "Think about the girl who gave you that amulet!" she shouted, seeing R'vek's betrothal amulet hanging out of his armor. "She needs you!" R'vek struggled against the two Kig-Yar, but couldn't make it to the doors before the pilot shut and sealed them. R'vek stopped, and as they lifted off the ground, he could see R'tak slicing apart the Flood M'glekgolo that had grabbed the landing gear. R'tak killed the beast, and saluted R'vek from outside the window as the flood swarmed over him, dragging his thrashing body to the ground. R'vek just stood staring blankly at the window as the Phantom sped away: he had just let the one who had saved his life die.

* * *

The Phantom sped through the air, rushing towards the Arbiter's headquarters, the Palace of the Guardians. R'vek sat in his chair, staring blankly at the wall. "They're dead," he whispered, shocked that all of his men had been slain. They had entrusted him with their lives, accepted him as a brother in arms, and he had let them down. Suddenly, the ship jerked to the side, causing R'vek to fly forward in his seat.

"What was that?!" shouted Zek, a trickle of blood running down his forehead. The ship swerved again and again, and their pilot, Tyf, screamed over the intercom.

"We're under attack!" she shouted, her voice panicked. "Jiralhanae ships; a whole fleet!" Suddenly, Tyf's scream echoed over the intercom, her voice agonized. R'vek jumped out of his seat; he wouldn't let any others die today. He ran to the cockpit, and saw Tyf. An enormous spike had smashed through the windshield of the Phantom, and had skewered her through the leg. The spike was about an inch thick where it penetrated Tyf's leg, and blood flowed freely around the wound. Tears ran from Tyf's eyes, while she struggled to control the Phantom in her wounded state, and R'vek saw that the spike was barbed along its length, and had a long chain extending from its end to whatever had fired it. Tyf finally lost the battle against the pain, and dropped her hands from the controls of the Phantom, staring at the spear imbedded in her leg. "Forerunners it hurts…" she whimpered as R'vek grasped the shaft of the metal rod. He muttered a small prayer, and yanked the spike out of Tyf's leg. She screamed in agony as the barbs tore through her flesh, blood spurting like juice from her shredded wound. She clenched her fists, streaks of water running down her face, and gritted her teeth against the pain. R'vek helped her up from the pilot's seat, and carried Tyf into the passenger quarters. Zek and Jyn stared at the wound in her leg, and Zek jumped out of his seat.

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at R'vek, grabbing Tyf from him. "I have some basic medical training; give her to me!" The ship rocked as shots from Jiralhanae ships impacted its hull. Warning sirens blared through the ship, red lights flashing and spinning. "Jyn!" shouted Zek, wrapping bandages around Tyf's leg as she stared in disbelief at the gaping hole in her leg. "I need you to take the pilot seat!" Jyn nodded, and ran to the cockpit, jumping into the pilot's seat. Suddenly, they heard a loud gasp. R'vek spun around, and saw something he couldn't believe. The female had woken up.

* * *

Tira ran out of the house as the wooden beams rattled; it felt like there was an earthquake! As she got outside, her eyes widened: fires raged across the hillside, the once beautiful trees now charred skeletons. The city below was burning, and she could just make out small brown dots swarming over the buildings. Suddenly, the house exploded behind her. Tira screamed as the burning splinters of wood hit her back, burning through her sweater and undershirt. She hit the ground, skidding on the rough grass, wincing with the pain. She propped herself up on her arm, and tried to get up, but cried out in pain as she did. She looked down at her leg, and saw that it was bruised a dark blue, and that the knee was popped out of its socket. A huge ship zoomed over her head, and Tira looked up in amazement. Jiralhanae ships swarmed the skies, swooping low to the ground to drop their troops. Jiralhanae dropped from the ships in the distance, hitting the ground in the middle of the suburbs. Gunfire and screams echoed through the air as the armed Jiralhanae massacred the civilians, shooting down both those who resisted and those who fled mercilessly. Suddenly, a huge ship swooped over Tira's head, a huge Jiralhanae dropping from its doors. Tira crawled away desperately, dragging herself across the ground as the Brute slowly walked towards her, a spiker in his hand. Half of his head was bald and scarred from burning, and his right eye was missing, a huge scar running down his face over the empty socket. He walked up to her, and kicked her in the ribs. Tira yelped in pain, her spine curling to protect her abdomen. The Jiralhanae looked down at her, an evil smile spread across his scarred face.

"Tira Kehrim?" he said in a guttural voice, grinning. Tira looked up at him in surprise at that he had known her name. The Brutes' scarred face was the last thing she saw before he kicked her in the head, sending her spiraling into unconsciousness.

* * *

R'vek looked in shock at the female who was breathing heavily, her eyes wide. She looked him in the eyes, and in a haunted voice whispered "they're coming!" Suddenly the ship rocked with a bolt from the Jiralhanae ships, and one of the engines exploded. The Phantom plummeted to the ground above the Sangheili Temple-City, carrying its passengers with it.

* * *

We leave you today with Tira in the hands of the Jiralhanae and R'vek and his allies spiraling to the ground in a flaming Phantom! Will R'vek and his allies survive the crash? What will become of Tira? Will they ever see each other again? Find out in the next thrilling installment of... The Ring!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	5. Innocence

Hello! Another day, another chapter! I hope I can keep this rate up... Anyways, some more side notes: Mortis is latin for Death; and the Draug gets its name from a near indestructible form of undead from Norse mythology. Also, if anybody knows about a Covenant religious symbol, please PM me about it, or send a picture of it to me via e-mail (my e-mail can be found on my profile page).

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Q'tari burst from the rubble of the Phantom, eyes wide, panting heavily, mandibles spread apart. Straining against the twisted metal, she pulled her body from the wreckage, blue blood running down her body from multiple gashes. The young Sangheili stood atop the wreckage staring into the skies, her eyes wide in fear. She didn't know where she was, and barely knew who she was, but the skies were full of fire and the screams of the dying, and that could only mean one thing: Jiralhanae. Q'tari scrambled over the wreckage, and slowly, her wounds began to heal. She looked down at her wrists, and to her horror, saw the chained spikes protruding from them. She tore the barbed spikes out of her arms, crying out in pain as she did so. Blood spilled from her hands, and she threw the spikes away, sending them bouncing down the mangled wreck. Suddenly, she heard a loud noise. A male Sangheili and a trio of Kig-Yar had just blasted their way through the wreckage. Her eyes widened; they must be Loyalists! Q'tari turned and ran, and barely heard the male's cry of "Wait!" behind her. Her hearts pounded in her breast, and she ran as fast as her feet could carry her across the dark, unknown world.

* * *

R'vek ran after the female Sangheili, cursing under his breath. With her wounds, if she kept this up, she'd die for sure! He vaulted over a twisted wing of the Phantom, running as his feet hit the ground. He could see the female running in the distance, stumbling across the broken landscape of the Temple City as she ran. R'vek sprinted across the ground, eventually catching up with her. "Wait! Stop!" he shouted, grabbing her wrist. To his great surprise, she turned around and slashed him across the face with… claws? R'vek stumbled back as blood ran down his face, stunned. No Sangheili he had ever met had had claws! He opened his eyes, blinking the blood out of them, and saw the female standing in a combat stance, clawed hands opened, ready to strike. R'vek paused, taking a step back, before suddenly lunging forward, catching the female off guard. He tackled her to the ground, pinning her arms by her sides. She thrashed and struggled beneath him like a wild animal, her eyes wide and pupils thin in fear. "Wait!" he shouted, "I'm a friend!" Suddenly, the female stopped trying to get her hands free to gouge his eyes out and looked up at him. R'vek got up, and backed away slowly, releasing the frightened girl. She leaped to her feet, panting. "Easy there," said R'vek softly, unclipping his weapons from his belt and letting them drop to the ground, although hesitating when he set down the sword. "If you keep going on like this with your…" R'vek paused suddenly, staring in disbelief: the wounds on the female's chest were gone, the holes that were once there replaced with small scars. That's when he noticed that she bore no wounds despite crashing unarmored in a damaged Phantom, and that the spikes in her wrists were gone, yet only left scars in their wake. R'vek stared in disbelief, his brain telling him that this was impossible, but his eyes telling him that it was real. Suddenly, the female's body shuddered, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She fell to the floor in a faint, her body landing limply on the shattered sidewalk. R'vek ran to her body, checking her pulse before hoisting her up onto his shoulders, running back to the wrecked Phantom. He laid her down next to Tyf, and ran to Zek and Jyn. "Do either of you have a communicator?!" he shouted, frantic. The two Kig-Yar stared at him blankly, until Jyn pulled one out of her pocket.

"Sure, but I-" R'vek cut her off, snatching the small device out of her hand. He quickly dialed a number, and held it next to his ear, but he got no response. He tried again and again, but each time no one picked up the other line. "Forerunners be damned, why won't you answer, Tira?" he muttered, beginning to panic. Suddenly, a Jiralhanae vessel zoomed overhead towards the Arbiter's palace, and R'vek's hearts nearly stopped: it had come from the direction of his home.

* * *

Innocence sat smiling aboard the flagship _Harbinger_, tapping his claws against the armrest of his command chair. He watched as his hordes of Jiralhanae dropships swarmed towards the planet below, flying straight through the wreckage of the Sangheili defense fleet. He chuckled under his breath, remembering how easily they had fallen to his new ships. The discovery of the Great Ring had brought new technology with it, and among this technology was a Forerunner Dreadnought, the largest he had ever seen. Aboard the ancient ship had been experimental designs for fighter-craft and dropships, and the zealous Prophet had adapted these designs to fit the needs of his Jiralhanae loyalists. The new ships had been tested for the first time as the _Harbinger_ exited slipstream above the Sangheili homeworld, pouring out of the dreadnought's docking bays, ambushing the Sangheili defense fleet. Despite the inferior piloting skills of the Jiralhanae, the Sangheili fleet had been utterly destroyed before even having a chance to coordinate a counterstrike. Innocence smiled; everything was going as planned. Suddenly, the door behind him slid open, and Innocence heard the clomping footsteps of a Jiralhanae chieftain entering the room. Innocence scowled, turning around in his hover chair to face the chieftain. "This had better be good," he muttered menacingly. The chieftain saluted, his helmet tucked under one arm, and kneeled, bowing his head to the Prophet.

"Your Holiness," said the Brute reverently, bowing deeply. "Our troops are succeeding in destroying the Sangheili populace. Already we have infiltrated the Temple-City of Sanghelios and are marching on the palace of the Heretic Arbiter." Innocence smiled, his eyes narrowing, but his smile faded when the chieftain remained kneeling, looking nervous.

"Please, continue," the Shan'Shyuum said in a menacing whisper, waving his hand to indicate for the chieftain to continue.

"We… we also have discovered that Experiment F-78 may have survived her execution. The tracking beacon has moved to a different location on the surface." Innocence scowled, clenching his hand into a tight fist. The ring on his finger began to glow a bright red, and the chieftain cried out in fear as a beam of red energy lanced out from the ring to his body. The chieftain screamed as the energy spread across his body, his fur smoldering as it burned. A loud popping could be heard, and the beam ceased. The Jiralhanae chieftain fell to the ground dead, his corpse smoking. His eyes had been boiled in their sockets, and the beam had cooked his brain to a point that bits of grey flesh oozed from a hole in the back of his skull.

"Enter!" commanded Innocence, scowling as the ring on his finger cooled down. 5 Jiralhanae filed into the room, their postures military. 2 of them stood guard at the door, while another 2 hoisted the smoldering body of the chieftain, dragging it out of the room, while the fifth, who wore an elaborate pauldron on his right shoulder, knelt in front of Innocence.

"Yes, your Holiness?" he asked, his inner nervousness only betrayed by the bead of sweat that ran down his forehead. Innocence drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, his ring clicking loudly against the metal surface.

"Contact Mortis," he said, scowling. "Tell him he has become a Chieftain."

* * *

Mortis finished fastening Tira Kehrim into the prison seat aboard the Draug, clamping her forearms to the metal armrests with steel clamps and her calves to the legs of the chair. He grinned evilly, the burnt flesh around his empty eye socket stretching horrifically. He hooked a finger beneath his captive's chin, lifting her head slightly before letting it hang loose on her limp neck once more. He chuckled; soon R'vek would pay for what he had done. Just then, the projector aboard the Draug flashed to life, an image of the Most Holy Prophet of Innocence hovering above it. Mortis instantly faced the projector, dropping into a kneeling position, his head bowed. "Your Holiness!" he said in religious fervor, his scarred forehead nearly pressing against the floor, "to what do I owe this honor?" Innocence scowled.

"Mortis," he said calmly, the fingers of each hand pressed together in front of him while his palms stayed separated, "the old Chieftain Brutus has… expired. You are to take his place." Mortis' eyes widened; his High Holiness the Prophet himself had just given him the title of Chieftain! Mortis recited a short prayer to the Forerunners, lifting the silver ring he wore on a chain around his neck to his lips. "Your first assign—what is a Sangheili doing on your craft?" asked Innocence, his voice dangerous. Mortis bowed deeper.

"If I may, your Holiness, I wish to exact personal revenge on the heretic R'vek Kehrim. With your blessing, I would like to use his mate as a method to do so." Mortis waited silently for what seemed like an eternity, but finally Innocence responded.

"Very well. You may exact your revenge." Innocence sighed, resuming his previous statement. "As I was saying, your first assignment as a Chieftain is to hunt down and destroy Experiment F-78. I do believe you are acquainted with her?" Mortis nodded; it had been he who had stabbed the spikes through the female Sangheili's wrists, he who had impaled her twice through the chest, and he who had slashed her back with his spiker.

"Yes, my Lord," he replied, being sure to avert his eyes of the Holiness' visage. Innocence smiled.

"Very well Mortis. You have my blessing. Go, and may the spirits of the Forerunners travel with you." With that, the transmission ceased, and Mortis stood from his kneeling position, walking slowly to where Tira sat, unconscious. Mortis watched his captive, and a wicked grin spread across his disfigured face. Soon, revenge would be his.

* * *

R'vek ran as fast as he could through the broken streets of the Temple-City, drawing his sword, chasing desperately after the Jiralhanae dropship. He leaped over broken mounds of rubble, darting through the shattered city after the ship, somehow gaining on it. It was almost as if the ship was intentionally going slow enough for him to catch up, teasing him with its proximity, always just a few steps away. Suddenly, the ship veered straight up, flying high into the skies of Sanghelios. R'vek had come to the cliff on which the Arbiter's palace was built: a natural, rocky crag that had a long ledge extending past the rest of the plateau. R'vek grabbed hold of the rocky cliff face, and began to climb, pulling himself up the cliff with all his strength, often flinging his body up rather than climbing. Finally, he reached the top, pulling himself over the edge, his eyes wide in fear of what could have happened. He ran to the ledge, and as he looked out over it, his hearts nearly stopped. The Temple City was utterly destroyed; the once elegant buildings lay in shambles, once-great statues torn apart by Jiralhanae spear-cannons. Suddenly, the Jiralhanae ship swooped in front of him, its bay doors sliding open. R'vek's eyes went wide; it was Mortis! During the Great Schism, the Jiralhanae had tried to kill R'vek, but R'vek had escaped, and wound up detonating a plasma grenade near Mortis. R'vek thought it had killed him, but apparently Mortis had survived the blast, but with horrific scarring. Half his head was completely furless, and he was missing his right eye. But it wasn't the Jiralhanae who had tried to take his life that scared R'vek; it was the ship's other passenger. Mortis was holding a gun to Tira's head.

* * *

Who is Q'tari? Who is Experiment F-78? What will become of Tira? Will the Sangheili survive? Find out in the next thrilling installment of... the Ring!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf

PS: check my profile for polls!


	6. Loss

Hello all! I hope you are enjoying my story, and I apologize for the abnormally long wait in updates. But, anyways, here is chapter 6! Loss.

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Zek panted heavily, leaning his hands on his knees as he watched R'vek disappear into the distance. "Stinking… Sangheili…" he panted, rolling his head on his neck as he gave up chasing R'vek and jogged back to the downed Phantom. "Why'd… they have… to have a home…. planet…. with higher…. gravity?!" Zek slumped down onto the ground, leaning on a piece of metal plating. Jyn walked over, and sat on his lap, Zek wrapping his arms around her. "Bet you never thought the day would turn out like this," he said, grinning. Jyn laughed, then coughed violently, clutching her abdomen. She pulled her hands away, and they were slick with blood. A large piece of shrapnel was imbedded in her side, its jagged, bloody edge just barely protruding from her flesh. She looked at Zek, her face pale.

"Zek…" she whispered faintly, and collapsed onto the floor, her breathing shallow. Zek's eyes widened in terror, and the spines on his head began to redden in panic. He knelt by Jyn's side, staring hopelessly as she slowly faded away with the blood trickling from her wound.

"Jyn!" he yelled, panicking. "Hang in there!" Zek began tearing through the rubble, searching frantically for medical supplies, but all he could find was a tattered roll of bandages. Zek's heart nearly stopped; there was no way he could save her with only this. Suddenly, he heard something behind him. He turned around, water in his eyes, and saw the female Sangheili R'vek had rescued standing behind him, looking strangely calm.

"I can help you," she said softly, and Zek's eyes widened. The two ran to Jyn's side, and Zek grabbed hold of the shrapnel, but the female pushed him out of the way. "I can do this better," she said calmly. "Also, my name is Q'tari." Q'tari gently grasped the shrapnel, ensuring that her fingers were touching the insides of Jyn's wound, and began to slowly draw the jagged piece of metal out. Jyn grimaced, unconscious, but to Zek's great surprise, the shrapnel came out easily. Once the shrapnel had been removed, Zek ran to his mate's side, wrapping her abdomen in bandages. Once she was bandaged, Q'tari again pushed him out of the way. She pointed her claws at Jyn, and placed her hand on the bandages above the wound, her fingers spread wide with her claws touching the bandage… and pushed the claws into Jyn's flesh. Zek's eyes widened, and he was about to throw Q'tari off of Jyn until he noticed the bulging muscles in her arm. Q'tari was exerting no physical force, and yet her entire arm was tense, and her knuckles were turning white. Q'tari winced, her body shuddering, and suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Q'tari let out a short cry, and fell backwards onto the ground, unconscious. Zek ran to Jyn's side, kneeling over her, and checked her breathing. It was shallow, and fading fast. At this point, time seemed to stop for Zek. Each labored breath from his love seemed to last for hours, and each pound of his own frantic heart was distinct and separate in his head. Finally, Jyn drew breath no more.

Zek's eyes widened, and he shook his head in disbelief, his spines blackening in grief. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he cradled Jyn's head in his arms, kneeling over her body. For the first time in his life, Zek truly wept, and facing incredible loss, his heart broke in two. He sat there for what seemed like an eternity, cradling his mate's head, and something fluttered beneath his fingers. Zek's eyes snapped open, and realized that his fingers were on Jyn's neck. Again, the flesh beneath his fingers fluttered faintly: Jyn had a pulse! Zek's eyes widened, and he lay her down, putting his mouth against hers, performing a medical technique that had been taught by the humans: CPR. Finally, Jyn began to draw long, wheezing breaths, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Zek's spines went clear, completely neutral. He was dumbfounded. One minute, Jyn was gone, and the next, she was alive again. He turned, and stared at Q'tari's unconscious form. "What are you?" he whispered, and for the first time, he saw the brand on her shoulder. It was a series of letters and numbers three figures long. It read F-78.

* * *

R'vek stared in horror, beginning to panic. Mortis held Tira, his left arm crossed around her chest and grabbing her right shoulder, while he pressed the barrel of a spiker against the side of her head. Her arms were forced behind her, and her eyes were wide in fear. R'vek instantly pulled out his rifle, taking aim on Mortis' head. The deformed Jiralhanae laughed, grinning sadistically.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his spiker making a loud clicking noise as a round was loaded into its firing chamber. "Somebody could get hurt!" Mortis chuckled, and shouted a command in the guttural Jiralhanae tongue to the pilot of his ship. The Jiralhanae ship lowered until its crew bay was level with the edge of the cliff ledge, the metal platform. Tira looked like she was about to say something, but Mortis clamped his hand over her throat, cutting off her breath. R'vek's eyes were wide with fear; Tira was the only thing anchoring him to this world, he could not lose her!

"Mortis, let her go," he said, dropping his rifle to the ground. Mortis grinned.

"Why should I? After all, you took my face from me!" Mortis let out a long and terrible laugh, the voice guttural, heavy, and rasping. R'vek remembered when he had fought Mortis; the Jiralhanae had been serving under his command, and when the Great Schism had occurred, he had tried to kill R'vek. The battle ended when R'vek had caught the Jiralhanae in the blast of a plasma grenade. R'vek's blood ran cold with fear, and he put his hands out in front of him.

"Mortis, please, your quarrel is with me, not her!" he said, desperate. Mortis just squeezed Tira's throat harder for a few seconds, causing her to squirm and gasp for air. Mortis' expression was grim, and the flesh around his empty eye socket pressed toward the center of the hole, giving his scowl a terrifying quality unlike any other.

"If you want her," said Mortis coldly, his face grim, "come and get her." Slowly, R'vek walked towards the dropship, his hands in front of him. He looked into Tira's fearful eyes, trying to appear calm.

"Everything's going to be alright," he said in a quavering voice. "Everything's going to be-" suddenly, a loud bang resounded through the air. R'vek looked down, and saw a smoking hole in his chest about a half inch in diameter. Mortis grinned, smoke rising from the barrel of his spiker. For a moment, Tira tore free of his grip.

"R'VEK!" she screamed in terror, tears dripping down her face as she saw her beloved fall to the dusty ground. Mortis pulled her back in, slapping her across the face with all his strength. Tira flew across the deck of the ship, smacking her head against the steel floor and slipping into unconsciousness. Mortis jumped down from the platform of the dropship, grinning. He walked over to where R'vek lay, and grabbed the Sangheili by the collar of his armor, hoisting him off the ground. R'vek stared into his eyes, breathing heavily.

"You know, R'vek," said Mortis, grinning, "I think I'm going to let you live, for now." The Jiralhanae chuckled, his voice evil. "After all, I want you to know that while you live, I and my packmates will be doing as we will with Tira!" R'vek's eyes widened, and Mortis threw him off the edge of the cliff. As R'vek fell, he saw the Brute ship lifting off into the sky, and then he hit the ground and fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

Tira sat huddled in the corner of the Jiralhanae ship, shaking in fear. Her wrists were bound together in front of her with metal handcuffs, and tear streaks ran down her face. Her captor was across the room from her, sitting in a chair, staring at her with his grotesque one eye. He was smiling, and his eye was narrow. "You killed him," Tira said shakily, her voice quavering. "You killed R'vek!" The Jiralhanae laughed, throwing his head back. The long fur on the left side of his head shook with his laughter, and the seared flesh on the right of his face stretched grotesquely across his skull.

"Killed him?" said the hideous Jiralhanae, leaning forward in his chair. The metal pauldron he wore on his shoulder clicked loudly, and the Sangheili mandibles he wore as trophies at his belt swung on their threads. "No, I did not kill him. I have done worse!" The Jiralhanae chuckled deep in his throat, his laugh rumbling in his chest. "I left him alive, but helpless. I have you, Tira Kehrim, and your mate knows that he is powerless to stop me from doing whatever I want to you!" The Jiralhanae jumped up from his chair, running to where Tira sat. He grabbed her by the throat, and slammed her body against the metal wall, pressing his hand into her neck. Tira gasped for air, and the Jiralhanae produced a long, steel spike from his belt. Grinning, he slammed the spike into Tira's shoulder, twisting it as the barbed weapon shredded through her flesh. Tira tried to scream, but all that escaped her mouth was a choked gurgle. Blood ran down her shoulder, and the Jiralhanae dropped her to the floor. Tira coughed, violently, her throat dry and sore.

"You're wrong," she said, fighting the pain in her shoulder. "R'vek will come… and he will kill you!" The Jiralhanae scowled, and kicked Tira across the head. She flipped over, her back slamming against the metal floor, and her mind went spiraling into the black void of sleep.

* * *

John-117 crouched in the foreign jungle, a battle rifle in his hands. He was in bad shape as far as guns went; he only had the rifle, and he only had 100 rounds for it. Slowly, he crouched through the underbrush, making his way towards a plume of smoke he had seen rising from the jungle earlier. Twigs snapped beneath his feet, but that was the only sound the jade armored Spartan made.

"Chief, I'm picking up something big directly ahead, and its surrounded by multiple lifeforms," Cortana whispered into John's head.

"Human?" he asked quietly, stopping for a moment.

"No, and not Elites either. They seem similar to the Brutes, but their technology and armor is nothing like anything I've ever seen used," replied Cortana, puzzled. "I wonder what they are?" John grunted, lifting the rifle in his hands.

"Whatever they are, they don't sound friendly," he said gruffly, and continued through the foliage. Suddenly, the trees ended. John dove behind a large rock, and peered out from behind it. His eyes widened beneath his orange visor: he was in a huge clearing in the jungle, the trees cut away in a perfect circle. Brutes patrolled the area, but they wore armor he had never seen before, and carried weapons that looked similar to the old ones he had seen used in the war, but were slightly altered. A dropship he had never seen before lowered from the sky, settling on the dusty ground. It had a pointed nose with four long, sharp ridges extending from the tip down to the back of the craft like the directions on a compass, a perfect cross. The east/west ridges spread out to form wings, and sloped downward slightly, and instead of coming to a tip, there was a long, serrated edge. Two immense cannons were under each wing, and at the nose, there were two guns that looked like they fired spears. The immense craft was at least 2 to 3 times the size of a Phantom, and its body was covered in serrated plating. The entire thing was the color of bloodstained iron. The bay doors below the wing slid open as it touched down on the ground, and a team of four Brutes led by a chieftain hopped out, immediately taking formation, the four soldiers in a square behind the Chief.

The Brute Chieftain was an ugly piece of work; half the fur on his head was seared off, leaving burn scarred flesh under it. His right eye was missing, and a long, wicked scar ran across the gaping socket. It was then that John, noticed the leash he had clasped in his hand. Behind the Chieftain was a female Elite, her hands bound in front of her, a long chain extending from the handcuffs. She wore civilian clothing, a reddish sweater over a shirt that was probably once white, and a pair of woven pants beneath a draping skirt. A steel spike was stabbed through her right shoulder, and John could faintly hear her cries against the Brute holding her leash. The Chieftain turned around, and punched her across the face, knocking her out, and picked her up, slinging her unconscious body over his shoulder. John's body tensed in his armor, and he readied the rifle, preparing to charge.

"John!" whispered Cortana harshly, reprimanding the Spartan. "You can't go charging in there!"

"There's a civilian hostage who has sustained torture!" argued the Spartan, but he knew Cortana was right. These brutes had new technology that he had never seen before, and if they had an Elite as a hostage, it meant that it was effective. John watched in frustration as the group of Brutes walked towards an enormous tower in the center of the clearing, laughing and joking about something, though John shuddered at the thought of what it could be. John sat back in the foliage in frustration, and watched as the freakishly large dropship lifted off into the sky once more, turning and speeding away with remarkable agility. Slowly, the Chief began to walk backwards into the woods, and suddenly he bumped into something. He turned around, his gun raised, and saw a little Grunt standing behind him. The grey skinned alien was standing on one leg, his arms covering his face, and his left leg crossed over his body.

"Wahhh! Don't shoot!" the startled Grunt whispered harshly, shocked at the appearance of the Chief. John looked around, and when he was sure he was secure, he stood up, lowering his weapon.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and the Grunt settled both of his feet on the ground, twiddling the fingers of his oversized hands nervously.

"I was going that way," he said, pointing towards the jungle behind him, "and then poof! Something bumps into my back! I thought it was one of the Brute thugs from the Tower, but it was really just you." The Grunt ran towards John, and wrapped his arms around the Spartans legs in a hug. The Spartan raised his arms in surprise, and Cortana chuckled lightly. "Boy am I glad to see an Alliance face! Well, er… you get the idea."

"Looks like you made a friend," said Cortana, and John scowled beneath his helmet. John-117 pushed the happy Grunt off of his legs, and knelt down until he was at eye level with the small creature.

"You do know who I am, right?" he asked, and the Grunt nodded happily.

"Yup! Daddy was a Separatist, and he told me all about the Cyborg!" said the grunt in a squeaky voice that was even more energetic than a normal member of his race. "He said you made the bad apes go BOOM!" As the runt said the last word, he spread his fingers and moved his hands in an arc in front of his face. Master Chief shook his head, rubbing his helmet with his palm: out of all the Grunts in the stars, he had to be stuck with the one that seemed to have caffeinated blood.

"Alright, then, what's your name?" asked John. The Grunt stared at him for a moment, seeming dumbfounded that the Master Chief had actually asked for his name.

"Kwakap!" said the Grunt excitedly, clapping his hands excitedly.

"Geeze, how old are you, 12?" muttered the Chief under his breath. To his surprise, Kwakap responded.

"By your years, I'm actually 9," he replied. John rolled his eyes behind his visor: he was stuck with a kid.

"Alright, Kwakap, do you have a communication device?" asked John, regretting it a moment later. Kwakap nodded happily, and pulled out a small device unlike anything John had ever seen from a pocket in his vest.

"What is this?" asked John, staring at the small grey box.

"It's a communicator! I built it myself!" said Kwakap proudly. John looked at him.

"_You_ built this? Does it work?" he asked, somewhat cynically. Kwakap crossed his arms.

"Of course it works! Contrary to popular belief, Unggoy aren't stupid! Since I was little when the war ended, I got to go to school!" Kwakap said angrily, pouting slightly, but John was ignoring him.

"Cortana, see if you can signal the Arbiter. Give him our coordinates, and tell him what we've found," said the Chief calmly.

"Sure thing, Chief," replied Cortana.

"Oh, and Cortana? One more thing: tell him that we're going to need some big guns."

* * *

Thel 'Vadam plunged his sword into the Jiralhanae assassin's chest, twisting it in a circle as it pierced the Brute's flesh. The Jiralhanae howled as the blade burned through his flesh, and his body tumbled to the floor, dead. Thel sheathed his sword, walking out from the ring of corpses that surrounded him. He opened the doors of his palace chamber walking slowly down the halls. The bodies of the Guardians lined the hallways, many of them still carrying extended swords. Thel looked around in anguish as he passed the long windows: his world, his home, was destroyed. From where he stood, he could see the burning cities in the distance, and the brown waves of Flood sweeping across the landscape. Thel walked down the halls, continuing to the communications room of his palace. He opened the door, and saw the last of his loyal soldiers, the Guardians, standing there. There were about twenty left, and they all stood at attention, their ornate armor covered in blood. Thel walked down the middle of the long room, coming to the communications panel. He inserted a key into a slot, twisting it, and two small doors opened in the panel, revealing a red button. His face grim, Thel pressed the button, signaling a planet-wide evacuation. The battle for Sanghelios was lost.

* * *

Innocence sat aboard the _Scepter_, tapping his claws together. He smiled as he saw the once beautiful planet below him: it was utterly destroyed. He grinned as he saw ships starting to leave its surface; the Sangheili were trying to escape. Innocence pressed a button on his chair, opening the intercom.

"Open fire on the escaping vessels," he said calmly, turning away from the window. "Let none pass."

* * *

So, Sanghelios is lost, and Innocence is attempting to perform genocide. Will he succeed? That's for me to know, and for you to find out.

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	7. Extinction

Hello again! Sorry for the long break in chapters; school has decided that it is time for homework! Hurray... Anyways, I appreciate the reviews, and would like to give thanks to Dawn Searcher and Cortanas-7hrd-L0v3r for being my first reviewers. But that's enough of me! Let's get back to the action!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Tyf woke, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand, her eyes closed. "Alright, how much did I drink last night and whose bed am I in?" she groaned, feeling like she had a horrible hangover. Suddenly, she remembered the events of the disastrous mission. She tried to get up, but collapsed back to the ground with a cry of pain. She clutched her leg in agony, gritting her teeth with the pain. She panted deeply, and opened her eyes again. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something brown skittering back behind the rubble. She drew a plasma pistol from her belt, glimpsing around nervously, dragging herself closer to the wreck. "Hello?" she called out nervously, waving the gun around. She heard a skittering sound, and saw a fleck of brown vanish behind a piece of rubble. "Who's there?!" shouted Tyf, her heart pounding in her breast. She backed up against a piece of metal, sliding her back up the flat surface. Suddenly, a brown insect leaped out from behind a pile of wreckage and charged at her: a Flood infection form. Tyf screamed in surprise and blasted it to pieces with her pistol, sending pieces of rotting flesh flying over the landscape.

"What's wrong?!" shouted Zek, jumping over the metal plate and landing next to Tyf. Tyf yelped in surprise as he landed next to her, and pointed at the smoking pile of rotted flesh. "What? I don't see any—Oh, damn," said R'vek, and several brown forms began to peer out from behind piles of rubble and large rocks. It was the Flood. As the Flood began to charge, Zek grabbed Tyf and pushed her over the top of the metal plate, grunting as his muscles strained against Sanghelian gravity. He pulled out both of his needlers, and began sending needles flying into the masses of Flood, bursting apart infection forms with each shot. He kept firing until, to his horror, he began to hear loud clicks from his guns. He was out of ammo. Zek grabbed at his belt for a clip of ammo, but to his horror, he had none. Zek turned, and jumped up onto the metal plate just as a Flood infection form jumped at him, smashing into the metal plate where Zek once was. Zek lobbed a grenade into the mass of creatures, and jumped behind the metal plate, landing next to Tyf. Their hearts pounded as they heard the Flood on the other side smashing against the metal barrier, and suddenly, a plasma sword sliced through the metal wall. Zek and Tyf both leaped out of the way as the sword yanked upwards, rending the metal plating in two, and a Flood Sangheili stalked through the rift, its twisted and deformed body moving unnaturally. Tyf leaned against a pile of shredded metal, shaking, her gun pointed straight at the zombified Sangheili, charging a bolt. Her eyes were wide in fear, and the corrupted Sangheili slowly raised its blade over its head, ready to bring it down with all of its might. Tyf screamed, and fired.

The glowing green ball of plasma tore through the creature's face, blasting its mandibles apart. The creature's head exploded in a violent display of pyrotechnics, clouds of green plasma dissipating in the air while bits and pieces of flaming flesh, bone, and brain matter rained to the ground around the body. The Flood Sangheili stood for a moment, and fell, its huge body toppling to the ground.

"Let's go!" shouted Zek, grabbing Tyf by the arm and pulling her to her feet. Tyf cried out in pain as she put pressure on her wounded leg, but adrenaline allowed her to stand, and the two ran back, closer to the more defendable central wreck where the body of the Phantom was. Once Tyf was inside the wrecked Phantom, Zek grabbed Q'tari and Jyn and dragged them inside before sealing the doors. Flood pounded on the doors of the wreck, screeching and howling as they tried to get in. Suddenly, Zek heard a low moan. He pulled the sword out of Jyn's belt and snapped around, ready to slice apart any Flood that had gotten inside, but all he saw was Q'tari slowly getting up, putting the palms of her hands against the metal floor, lifting herself up off of it.

"What happened?" she asked, bewildered.

"You saved Jyn, and passed out," replied Zek, pulling a plasma rifle out of a storage unit. "During your nap, the Flood attacked." Q'tari nodded, and walked over to the doors, prying her claws between the plates of metal. "What are you doing?" asked Zek, and his eyes went wide as Q'tari began to pull out to the sides, trying to slide the door open. "Stop that!" he shouted, but he was too late. The doors flew open at the female Sangheili's surprising strength, and Flood began to pour in. Zek raised his shield and prepared to die, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes, and saw Q'tari, her hand against the chest of a Flood corrupted Brute. The creature was dead.

A ring of dead Flood surrounded Q'tari, their bodies bearing no wounds. The Jiralhanae toppled over, and more Flood tried to rush in, only to die as they brushed against Q'tari's legs. Q'tari slowly walked out of the downed ship, her pace a leisurely stroll. Flood attacked her at all sides, blackening and falling dead to the ground as they touched her. Slowly, the Flood began to part before her, giving her body a wide berth. One by one, the Flood turned and left, galloping and skittering back across the planet's surface, abandoning the wreck. Zek stared in amazement; just what in Forerunner's names was she?! Suddenly, a huge spear shot from the sky. It was an inch in diameter, and was barbed along its length. It stabbed through Q'tari's back, just below her collarbone, and rammed through her body and into the ground. Q'tari screamed in pain, and slowly, a Jiralhanae dropship lowered to the ground. Zek ran out of the wreck, shield up, blasting away with his rifle as Jiralhanae began to climb out of the ship. The first one he hit in the face, sending the Jiralhanae soldier to the dusty ground and on his so called "great journey". Another jumped out, and fired a shot from his spiker at Zek. Zek raised his shield… and the bolt tore straight through it.

* * *

A vast field of rubble coated acres of Sangheili farmland where the remnants of the defense fleet had fallen from orbit. Charred husks of ships lay scattered around the area, and corpses burned beyond recognition littered the wrecked field of metal. A four-fingered hand burst from beneath a metal plate, sending the piece of scrap flying. R'tas 'Vadum pulled himself from the rubble, yanking his body from the prison of twisted metal. He crawled out of the rubble, and looked around him at his destroyed fleet in anguish. He threw his arms back, and howled to the sky in loss of his brothers-in-arms, mourning the destruction of those whom had trusted him with their lives. R'tas jumped to his feet, calling out to the wreckage. He got no response. That day, R'tas 'Vadum swore revenge on those who had killed his brothers. He drew his energy sword, stalking silently across the wrecked field. He had people to kill.

* * *

R'vek sat up with a jolt, jumping to his feet. Almost immediately, he regretted it. He sank to his knees, clutching the wound in his chest. He winced, tears in his eyes, but forced himself to his feet, his sheer force of will overpowering his sense of pain. He took one slow step at a time, staggering through the broken streets of the Temple-City of the Guardians, blue blood beginning to trickle from his wound. R'vek stumbled, tripping to the ground, and coughed, flecks of blood flying from his mouth. His vision went blurry, and R'vek forced himself once more to stand, panting heavily. He stumbled through the road, paying no heed to the shattered buildings. R'vek felt himself going light-headed, and he fell one more time. R'vek toppled to the ground, his broad chest slamming against the pavement with a resounding thud. He felt something tugging at his legs and grabbing his waist. Sure it was the Flood, R'vek reached out in front of him, feeling himself slipping into unconsciousness. "Tira…" he whispered in an agonized, hopeless voice as he felt himself being lifted off the ground on slipped into the void.

* * *

Thel watched as his Guardians lifted R'vek off the ground, his face grim. As R'vek's body left the ground, his body went limp, his breathing shallow. "Hurry, my Brothers," said Thel 'Vadum urgently, "if we do not make haste, then our Brother's life will slip from between our fingers." The brightly armored Guardians placed R'vek on a stretcher, and loaded him aboard Thel's cruiser, a magnificent ship reserved for the use of the Guardians. The ship sat in front of a group of four Phantoms and three Civilian Transport Units, or CTUs, arranged so that the CTUs sat surrounded by the combat-capable craft. Suddenly, Thel's wrist communicator began to buzz. He slapped the answer button, raising the device to his face. "Hello?" he said, holding back anger. "Who are you and why do you call on this accursed day?"

"My friend…. It has been a long time," answered a familiar voice. Instantly, Thel 'Vadam recognized it: it was R'tas, his old friend from the War!

"R'tas, my Brother!" exclaimed Thel, surprised. "I thought you had died when the Brutes destroyed our fleet! How did you survive?"

"I was, as far as I know, the only one to survive," said R'tas grimly. "I need transportation; with the loss of our planet, our home is with our people." Thel nodded grimly, realizing that with the coming of the Flood, Sanghelios would never again be their home.

"I'll be right there, my Brother," replied Thel, and he cut the transmission. He walked into his ship grimly, his brow furrowed: he still had some few last things to take care of on this forsaken planet.

* * *

The bolt buried itself into Zek's shoulder, and Zek spun to the ground, clutching his wounded limb. He heard the clomping boots of the Brute, and closed his eyes, waiting for death's black void to envelop him, but it never came. He opened his eyed, and saw the Brute's head lying next to him on the ground, its eyes wide open in surprise. The body toppled to the ground with a loud thud, and Zek saw Jyn reaching down to him, her sword clasped in her left hand. Zek took her hand and rose to his feet, his right arm hanging limp. Three more Brutes jumped out of the dropship, opening fire on their position. Zek and Jyn jumped out of the way, the metal rods from the Jiralhanae guns slamming into the soil. A full pack of Jiralhanae poured out of the doors, jumping to the ground with heavy thuds. There were about 30 in all, and ten of them looked like they had fuel-rod cannons. Zek swore under his breath, and readied his plasma rifle. He fired around the corner of his and Jyn's cover, and the bolt of plasma tore through the air towards a Jiralhanae, sizzling as it passed through the moist atmosphere. The bolt hit the Brute… and bounced off. Zek's eyes widened, and the Jiralhanae turned towards where he was, beginning to charge. Suddenly, the Brute's head exploded as a pink beam of energy shot through it, bits of flesh flying everywhere.

"Looks like a beam rifle still works!" shouted Tyf, who was crouching on the top of the downed Phantom. Zek smiled, but suddenly, he heard Q'tari's scream. He looked over to where she was pinned, and saw two Brutes yanking the spike out of her body before grabbing her and beginning to drag her towards their ship. Abandoning logic, Zek jumped out from behind cover, a plasma grenade in each hand. He released the feral cry of the Kig-Yar, a horrible, ear-piercing screech that sounded like an entire flock of vultures, and lobbed the two grenades. Each grenade stuck to one of the Jiralhanae that were carrying Q'tari, and the two Brutes yelled in surprise, dropping their hostage. Q'tari crawled out of the way, and the grenades went off. Plasma burst around the two Brutes, blasting their armor from their bodies, and sending them crashing to the ground. Suddenly, they got back up. Zek watched as Q'tari turned around, and stabbed her claws through one of their chests, grabbing the Jiralhanae's heart and wrenching it out of his body. The Brute howled in agony as he died, and Q'tari let out a feral cry of rage, her mandibles flared wide and her eyes tiny slits. Still holding the heart of the slain Jiralhanae, she charged the other, who raised his gravity hammer and rushed at her, yelling a war cry in a guttural voice. Q'tari smashed the heart of his comrade into his face, blinding him. The Jiralhanae stepped back as hot blood entered his eyes. By the time he had opened them, Q'tari had smashed her hand through his skull, her wrist poking out the back of his head. She pulled her hand back out, and the Brute's body toppled lifeless to the ground.

Zek watched the macabre display with a kind of horrified fascination, and he noticed that Q'tari's eyes were pure red. The Jiralhanae on the field stopped in surprise at the sheer display of brutality that rivaled even their own torture chambers, stunned at how swift this Sangheili freak was able to dispatch two of their own. It cost them dearly. Huge bolts of plasma rained from the sky, smashing into the Jiralhanae force. They were incinerated where they stood, screaming in agony, and four Phantoms followed by three Civilian Transport Units, or CTUs, flew down to the ground. Sangheili poured from the vessels, howling in rage, most of them civilians. They swarmed over the brutes, crying out in rage and sorrow for the destruction of their homes and the murder of their friends and family, many of them simply mobbing and beating the Jiralhanae to death with their bare hands. A few of the Jiralhanae were able to make it back to their ship, and jumped in, abandoning their heavy weapons in favor of escaping from the mob of Sangheili. The anguished Elites jumped into their ship behind them, and the dying screams of the Jiralhanae could be heard even through the thick plating of the ship. The ship swerved out of control as the pilot was killed, and suddenly landed safely on the ground, a Sangheili sitting in the cockpit. Q'tari watched the whole spectacle with wide, clear eyes. She looked at her bloody hands, and collapsed to the ground in a faint. Suddenly, an eighth ship landed: the extravagant ship belonging to the Guardians. It settled on the ground, and Zek and Jyn waved their arms, signaling that they were there. The ship's bay doors opened, and the Arbiter and the famed fleet-master R'tas 'Vadum, otherwise known as Half-Jaw, stepped out.

Zek and Jyn hoisted Q'tari off of the ground, dragging her to where the Arbiter stood. The Arbiter looked down at them quizzically. "Where are the rest of your troops?" he asked, his voice calm. Zek shook his head.

"All dead, except for R'vek and the pilot of our Phantom. She's sustained heavy wounds, and will need medical attention," he explained, pointing to where Tyf sat with her beam rifle atop the Phantom. Tyf waved, happy to be alive. R'tas stepped forward, his eyes cross.

"Then who is this, Kig-Yar?" he asked, pointing to Q'tari. "Where did you find this female?" Zek shook his head, his expression of disbelief.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, shaking his head at the memory. "I still have trouble believing it myself." R'tas just looked at him, and his hand twitched near the handle of his blade.

"Kig-Yar," Half-Jaw whispered menacingly, "my Brothers are _dead_. I am not in a patient mood! Now tell me where you found her!" Zek sighed, shaking his head.

"R'vek found her aboard the downed fragment. Apparently, there was a large central room littered with the corpses of civilian members of every Alliance race. Hers was chained in a crucified position to two control panels from spikes stabbed through her hands, and had sustained two impalement wounds in her chest as well as a large gash in her back," Zek said.

"Then how is she still alive?!" shouted R'tas, angrily. "She doesn't seem to have a scratch!"

"I don't know!" said Zek, frustrated. "All I know is that after we crashed, her wounds were gone." Zek sighed, not believing himself, "She can heal others, too, and has a surprising affect on the Flood." R'tas' eyes widened.

"She made contact with the Flood?!" he shouted, furious.

"Yeah," Jyn replied calmly, "they died." Jyn smiled. "Look, all we know is that she heals incredibly fast, she has claws, she can heal others, and that she kills the Flood." R'tas looked like he was going to crush the two Kig-Yar beneath his fist, but Thel pushed his way in between them.

"Enough!" he shouted, his face stern. "Our survival depends on our escape from this planet! As much as it pains me to say it… we must leave!" Thel turned and walked into his ship, a pair of Guardian lifting Tyf onto a stretcher and carrying her in as well. Another pair of Guardians took Q'tari from Zek and Jyn, lifting her emotionlessly onto a stretcher. The two Kig-Yar followed the group into the ship, and the ship took off. Zek shifted nervously; something was wrong. Suddenly, it hit him. They were flying into a trap!

Zek ran to the bridge of the ship, his feet pounding on the metal floor. "ARBITER!" he shouted, as he entered the cockpit. Thel 'Vadum turned, his eyes stern.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice quiet with rage.

"You have to stop the ship!" said Zek urgently. "We're flying into a trap! Think about it; if the other Sangheili ships made it, don't you think we would have been hailed by now?!" Thel's eyes widened in realization of what must have happened, and he shoved the pilot out of his chair, taking the controls. He typed furiously on the control panel, stopping the ship and preparing a message.

"By the souls of our fathers, protect the last sons and daughters of Sanghelios," he whispered in desperate prayer as he hit the broadcast button and jettisoned his ship's bomb supply. If this didn't work… the Sangheili may be added to the long list of extinct species.

* * *

Innocence smiled maliciously as he watched the destruction from his quarters aboard the _Scepter_, almost feeling the ending of the lives of millions of Sangheili. He had routed the transmissions to his room, and he reveled in the screams and cries for mercy that came from the Sanghelian ships. His eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was curved into a vicious crescent. As he watched, a couple heavily damaged Sanghelian ships made a break for the planet's atmosphere. That was fine; they would never get back out. Suddenly, he heard a transmission from the _Forefather's Blade_, the ship of the treacherous 21st Arbiter. An SOS signaled from the ship; apparently, they and a group of CTUs were going down. A huge explosion could be seen in the atmosphere, and Innocence smiled. As the last of the Sanghelian ships exploded in space, the screams and pleading died out, and he was left in silence. "All ships pull out," Innocence said into the intercom, smiling. "We return to The Ring."

* * *

Mark sat slouched over in his seat aboard the _Soaring Hope_ space station at his post in communications, playing solitaire on his laptop. He was a young human, about 21, and he had tan skin, slanted brown eyes, and straight, short black hair. His Alliance Marine uniform hung about his thin, tall form, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He heard the doors open behind him, and heavy footsteps clomped in. "Hey, Jack," he said with a smirk as his friend leaned on the table next to him. Jack was a light skinned human with red hair, blue eyes, and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. His uniform was messy and wrinkled, and his hair stood up wildly.

"Hey, Mark," said Jack, his mouth in a crooked smile, his heavy Brooklyn accent apparent in his voice, "picked anything up?" Mark chuckled.

"No," he said, rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

"Of course you haven't!" shouted Jack, laughing. "There's nothing to pick up!" Jack stood up straight, stiff, with a mock expression of pride on his face. "Protect the Earth!" he said, imitating their commanding officer. "A new threat could appear at any moment!" both young men laughed.

"Yeah, right," said Mark. "The only thing out there is – wait a minute, I've got something," said Mark, his voice suddenly serious as his radar began to beep. "Unidentified vessels," he said into his headset in an official voice, "please state your name and business. If you do not respond, we will not hesitate to open fire!" A voice responded over the radio, and Mark instantly recognized it as the Arbiter.

"This is the _Forefather's Blade_ and military vessels escorting a group of Sanghelian refugees," said the Arbiter, his voice calm, but strained. "Requesting permission to dock." Jack shoved past Mark, putting a headset on.

"Elites?" he said incredulously. "You guys are freakin' gods on the battlefield! What in hell could you be taking refuge fro – oh my god," Jack's eyes widened as he said this. The ships had come into visible range. There was the _Forefather's Blade_, four phantoms, and five CTUs, two of them nearly destroyed.

"Where are the rest of you?" asked Mark, his glasses hiding his widened eyes. The Arbiter sighed.

"We are all that is left," he said, his voice sad. "Requesting permission to dock."

"Jack," said Mark, leaning over to his friend, "go and tell the guys in docking bay 07 that we're having company." Mark began to type rapidly on his keyboard, clearing Dock 07 for landing. "Arbiter, you and your people have permission to land," he said calmly his fingers flying across the keyboard. "Proceed to docking bay 07." Mark paused, hesitant. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, but what could do this to the Sangheili? You were a very powerful race." The Arbiter responded, his voice stern.

"You do not want to know. Only pray that it has not followed us here."

_

* * *

_

R'vek walked down the halls of the Brute ship, a broken sword at his belt, a bloody spike of torn metal in his hand. Blood ran down his body from multiple wounds, dripping in blue puddles to the floor, mingling with the blood of the Jiralhanae he had slain, and his armor was utterly destroyed, the remaining scraps of it hanging from his bare chest. His left arm hung limp at his side, and he walked with a limp, nearly blinded by his own blood. R'vek didn't care. He walked forward like one possessed, his shuffling gait scraping on the metal floor. He pressed his hand on the metal door, pouring all of his strength into it. Slowly, the door began to crumple inwards. Blood exploded from his wounds as his muscles strained, but R'vek was no longer able to feel pain. Finally, the door gave way, and R'vek stumbled into the dark room, lights shining on a single spot. The light shone on Tira. She sat in a chair in the center of the room, her arms strapped to the armrests, blood trickling from various wounds, bruises marring her flesh. R'vek stumbled towards her, and she looked up. Instantly, her eyes brightened, but just as she was about to say something, her eyes went wide, her mandibles hanging open. She looked down, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her head hung limp on her neck. A huge steel spike had impaled her through the chest, its barbs covered in shreds of flesh and dripping with blood. R'vek's eyes widened, and he dropped to the floor, tears running down his face. Tentacles began to wrap around his body, and he turned, watching as the Flood Gravemind slowly embraced him. He got up, and began walking towards it, submitting to its presence. A huge, sharp toothed maw opened in front of him, and R'vek's eyes widened in terror as the tentacles began to drag him in. The toothy gate closed around him, and

R'vek sat bolt upright, panting, his eyes wide in terror. "Tira!" he screamed, before collapsing back into the bed with a laugh. "Just a dream," he whispered to himself, laughing. "It was all just another nightmare." Suddenly, R'vek began to get the feeling that something was wrong. He looked down… and saw needles in his arms, and that his chest was wrapped in bandages. R'vek looked next to him, and his fears were realized: Tira wasn't there. R'vek tore the needles and sensors from his body, jumping out of bed. He ran to the cupboards, searching for his armor, the bedsheets falling from his naked body. He trashed the medical cabinets and cupboards, but couldn't find his armor. R'vek smashed through the door, startling a pair of humans outside. Wait… humans?! Where was he? R'vek ran down the white halls of the medical ward, panting heavily, terrified. "Tira! Zek! Jyn! Somebody, answer me!" he shouted in Covenant Common, his feet pounding on the cold floor. R'vek rounded a corner, only to see a group of humans coming his way. R'vek stopped, facing the startled humans, and turned around, growling as he did. Humans were coming the other way, as well, and R'vek's eyes closed into slits.

"Has the old war begun again, Humans?!" he shouted, challenging the Marines. R'vek roared, and leaped at the Marines with the speed and agility of a jungle cat, flying into the group. The humans shouted and dove out of the way as 200 pounds of pure muscle came crashing to the ground amidst them, scattering. R'vek heard them saying something, but could not understand their harsh tongue in his current state. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and his vision blurred. He looked down, and saw a large piece of metal imbedded in his arm. R'vek tore the metal out, and blood poured from the wound.

"Come back, Humans!" he shouted, in rage. "Are you in alliance with the Jiralhanae?! Will none of you fight and die with honor?!" R'vek fell to his knees, and he saw that he had taken more damage than he had thought. His right leg was wrapped in bandages, and his chest had a large, soft pad in its center. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. R'vek rose to his feet slowly and turned around. It was the Arbiter. The Arbiter walked slowly towards him, his step military.

"Be still, my Brother," said the Arbiter, his voice calm. "We are among friends. Here, clothe yourself," he said as he reached R'vek, handing the confused Sangheili a blanket. R'vek took the sheet of cloth, wrapping it around his body.

"Grand Arbiter," he said, bowing his head in shame, "I have failed you. I led my Brothers to their demise, and failed to contain the Parasite." R'vek fell to one knee, ready for whatever punishment the Arbiter had prepared, but all he felt was a hand on his shoulder. "Arbiter?" he said quietly, confused.

"My Brother, you have not failed," said the Arbiter, his face grim. "You escaped alive with three other soldiers and managed to rescue a tortured civilian. You stood firm facing vast concentrations of the Parasite. You suffered a firearm wound from what was assumed to be a Jiralhanae gun." The Arbiter paused, helping R'vek to his feet. "R'vek Kehrim, you are a hero, not a failure." R'vek looked around in awe, unable to process all that had just happened.

"Grand Arbiter," he said in a whisper, "this is a great honor, but where are we? Why are we not back on Sanghelios, but are instead in a hospital infested with Humans?" The Arbiter sighed, and looked at R'vek.

"Follow me," he said, and turned, walking back the way he came. The two Sangheili walked along the halls, until they came to a large door. They walked in, and the Arbiter motioned to a huge window. R'vek looked through, and his eyes widened. Five CTUs sat in the middle of an enormous clearing, Sangheili milling about around them. There were a few hundred in the room, and the most that could be there was 5000, and that was if each CTU had been filled to maximum capacity.

"Arbiter, what am I looking at?" R'vek asked in fear.

"R'vek," said the Arbiter, looking him in the eyes, "you are looking at the last of the Sangheili. Welcome to the list of endangered species."

* * *

Alright! So, looks like only 5000 Sangheili out of billions made it out alive at most. What will happen now? Will they be victorious? Or will R'vek's haunting nightmare become a reality? Only time may tell...

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever-changing patterns...

- Baeowulf


	8. Hope

Hello everybody! I'm baaaack... Anyways, just like to warn you that though I will update when I can, it's probably only going to be once a week (school... grrr!) Anyways, I hope you like this story! I looked at the traffic page, and I discovered that I have visitors from all over the world! (21 countries!) If you read, please leave a review! your feedback is important to me, and I want to know what you like so that I can keep doing it, or waht you don;t like so that I can make sure it doesn't happen again. But that's enough from me; let's get back to... The Ring!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Tira shook her head groggily, slowly lifting it up. She tried to move her hand to rub her forehead, but found that it was stuck. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down. Her forearms were clamped to the armrest of a metal chair, and she could feel the metal restraints holding her ankles to the legs of the chair. Her eyes widened in panic, and she began tugging frantically at the clamps, but to no avail. Suddenly, she heard a voice.

"Struggling won't help you," it said, deep and rumbling. Tira stopped, her eyes wide in fear.

"Who are you?" she called out, trying to sound confident. "Show yourself!" A deep, rumbling chuckle could be heard from the shadows of the dark room, and a Jiralhanae slowly walked into the bright light that shone on Tira. Half the fur on his head was gone, and his scalp and face were covered in wrinkled burn scars, and his right eye was gouged out, a long scar running across the socket. He smiled, and Tira recognized him, and began to panic, struggling vainly against her restraints, straining against the metal clamps. The Brute walked until he was behind her, and he put his mouth next to her ear, leaning over her shoulder.

"I… am Mortis," he said, smiling. Tira froze as she felt his hot breath against her face, her eyes wide, pupils contracted. The Jiralhanae laughed, reveling in her terror.

"What do you want from me?" whispered Tira, terrified by Mortis. Again, the grotesque Brute laughed.

"Not you; R'vek!" he said, walking around so that Tira could see his horrible face. He grabbed her by the throat, pressing his hand against her slender neck, crushing her windpipe against the metal chair. Tira's fingers twitched spastically, and her body began to thrash beneath Mortis' grip. The Jiralhanae scowled, and his face morphed hideously into a cruel smile as he heard the clicking noises issued from Tira's throat as she tried to draw breath. Mortis squeezed harder, and Tira's eyes flew wide, her body thrashing violently. "He did this to me, and now, he will pay!" shouted Mortis. Slowly, Tira's convulsions grew weaker and weaker, and she began to go limp from lack of oxygen. Just as her eyes began to roll back into her head, Mortis released his grip. Tira collapsed forward in the chair, panting and coughing violently, her body shaking with sobs of fear. Mortis grinned, and turned around on his heel, walking towards the door. At the door, he stopped. "You are bait; your torment is his suffering, and your death shall break him!" With that, Mortis closed the door, and the lights went out. Tira sat in the dark, tears dripping down her face.

"R'vek," she whimpered, "where are you?"

* * *

Mark sat at his console, frantically typing on the keyboard. Ever since the _Soaring Hope_ had received the Sangheili refugees, things had been hectic. Food shipments, regulating atmospheric simulation, tracking in-bound and out-bound ships, receiving travelling Sangheili who had returned to find they didn't have a home: all this and more was part of the now daily life aboard the _Soaring Hope_. Possibly worst, however, was checking the refugees for Flood contamination. The Parasite had broken out on their planet before evacuation, and now, every refugee had to be checked. Mark pulled at the bags that hung under his eyes; he had barely slept for the past two days. The doors swished, and Jack walked in. "Hey, Jack," said Mark drowsily, waving casually and taking another sip of his Coke.

"What are you doing?" said Jack, more of a statement than a question, his cigarette hanging from his mouth. The young man looked almost disgusted. Mark turned from his work.

"Excuse me?" he asked, slipping his shades off to reveal his eyes.

"You heard me," said Jack coldly. "What are you doing? Why do you care so much about those off-worlders?"

"Jack, what are you saying?" asked Mark, beginning to think that his friend might not be who he thought he was.

"I'm saying," replied Jack, his accent heavy, "that we shouldn't be responsible for these Squid-heads. Let them find their own refuge; they didn't do anything for us!" Mark stared at his friend, wide eyed.

"Jack, they're _refugees_! They don't have anywhere else to go; hell, they're planet's a bug-nest by now! And how can you say they've done nothing for us? They fought alongside us in the-"

"After they fought against us!" interrupted Jack. Mark got up, angry.

"Look, Jack, you're my friend, but if you are suggesting that we let innocents die- " as Mark said this, Jack exploded.

"DON'T TELL ME THEY'RE INNOCENT!" screamed Jack, spitting his cigarette onto the ground. "They killed my father! You have no right to tell me they're innocent!" Jack turned his back on Mark, angry. "I say we should just kill them now while we have the – " Mark punched Jack across the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. Jack sat up, bewildered, wiping blood from his lip. Mark scowled down at him, his eyes cross.

"Jack, I've been your friend for a long time, but I outrank you," said Mark, his voice dangerous. "I hate to do this, but your actions and words have proven to me that you are emotionally compromised, and are a risk to innocent lives. Effective-immediately, I am indefinitely suspending you from the Alliance Marine Corps. There will be a shuttle waiting to take you to the nearest colony in the morning." Mark turned away from his friend, returning to his work. "Good day." Jack got up, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"Mark, you can't be serious," he said, but Mark cut him off.

"I said _good day_, Private Hanson. You are dismissed." Jack stared at his friend incredulously, and turned around, stomping out of the room, a scowl marring his fair skin. As the door closed, the communications panel sounded. Mark rolled his chair over to the console, and hit the display message button. As he did, his eyes widened in amazement: the message was from the Master Chief.

* * *

Zek sat on the edge of his bed, holding Jyn close to him. The two sat there in silence, neither of them saying a word, but the atmosphere had no tension, and if anything, the only emotion conveyed was worry. Despite his stoic face, Zek's spines betrayed his emotions, and were a deep blue in color. So much had happened over the past couple days, and just three days ago, they had come so close to losing each other forever. Zek rubbed his mouth against Jyn's neck, nibbling softly at the flesh at the base of her neck. She moaned softly in pleasure, and turned around in Zek's arm's, wrapping her arms about his body in a hug and rubbing her neck against his. For a while, the two sat there, just holding each other, and appreciating the value of silence. Suddenly, the silence was broken when the intercom in their room went off.

"Zek, Jyn, you are needed in the War Room immediately," said a dull, monotone voice before clicking off. Zek stood, carrying Jyn, pressing her bare body into his. He walked over to the drawers, and set his mate down. The two Kig-Yar pulled on their clothes, grabbed their weapons, and walked out of the room.

* * *

R'vek stood in front of the large window, staring out into the blackness of space. His hand was pressed against the glass, his fingers spread wide. His ribs showed clearly through his skin, and his eyes were sunken into his skull; he hadn't eaten or slept in the past few days, but he didn't even notice. His mind was elsewhere, with his heart. He stared out into the inky blackness of the void, and a tear rolled down his face. He slammed his fist against the glass, smashing through the first layer, and leaned his forehead against the pane, tears streaming down his face.

"I failed…" he whispered, weeping. "I failed, I failed, I failed!" R'vek's bloody fist opened, and he rested his palm against the second pane of the window, his body collapsing against the glass. "Tira…" he whispered, his eyes shut tight, tears dripping from them. "I failed…" Suddenly, he heard the door open behind him. "Leave me be," whispered R'vek, unable to bring himself to speak in his full voice. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up: it was the Arbiter. R'vek turned his head away, pressing it against the glass. "I failed her, Brother," he said, his voice pained.

"Brother," said the Arbiter sympathetically, "I am sorry for your loss, but there is nothing we can do. Come; you have been summoned to the War Room to receive some rather interesting information. I think you'll like to hear it."

* * *

R'vek took his seat in the War Room, his body collapsing into the undersized Human chair. At the table were R'tas, Zek, Jyn, Q'tari (closely followed by a pair of armed guards), the Arbiter, and various Human soldiers. Standing in front of everybody was a Human general and a tan-skinned communications officer. The officer took a step forward, and cleared his throat.

"Good morning, everyone," he began, his voice confident for one of his rank. "My name is Mark. You are probably wondering why you have been called here." Mark moved over to a hologram projection: it was of the destroyed world of Saghelios. R'tas growled audibly. "A few days ago, Sanghelios was destroyed by a force of Brutes. How this happened is unknown, but we may know where the attack was launched from." The hologram changed, showing a Halo ring, but larger than anyone had ever seen. The Ring encircled what looked to be an entire solar system. "We have received a message from an ally we had thought to be dead: the Spartan John-117, known as the Demon to most former-Covenant races." R'vek stiffened in his chair, his pulse accelerating at the mention of the Demon's name. The Arbiter placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over slightly.

"Easy, Brother," he whispered, "this I not the time to fight." After a short pause, Mark continued his report.

"The message we received detailed the location of what is now being called the super-Halo, as well as some interesting information on inhabitants. The Master Chief sighted a large group of Brutes guarding some sort of tower. They had new ships and technology that he had never seen before, but it is unlikely that they built it for themselves, so we must assume the involvement of another intelligent species." Mark paused, letting this information settle with the people at the table before continuing. "The presence of technologically advanced Brutes alone supports that these were the same Brutes who attacked Sanghelios, but another of John's sightings confirmed this. In his message, he described that the Brutes had a civilian prisoner; unusual behavior at the least, but the most significant part was that the prisoner was a female Sangheili. According to the chief, she was being escorted to the tower by what appeared to be four Brute soldiers and one Chieftain; according to his report, the Chieftain would be easy to recognize in combat due to his disfigured face and lack of an eye." R'vek's eyes widened: that fit Mortis perfectly!

"Tira…" he whispered, grasping at the slight sliver of hope that she could still be alive. Mark continued.

"If John's report is accurate, then we cannot afford to leave this super-Halo in the hands of the Brutes. We are assembling an elite Alliance force to infiltrate the Brute defenses and establish a small base of operations before we launch a full-scale assault. You have been called here so that we may request your assistance. This will be an extremely dangerous mission; any of you who volunteer, know that your lives are at risk." R'vek was the first to stand, very nearly knocking over his chair in his haste.

"I will go," he said, and left the room, leaving everyone else in confusion. R'vek almost ran down the halls of the _Soaring Hope_, and he quickly opened the door to his room. He walked over to the closet, and threw open its doors: his armor hung inside, along with his rifle and his new sword. R'vek slipped into his armor, strapping the sword and the rifle to his belt. He gazed out the window into space, his face determined. "I'm coming, Tira."

* * *

Ok, so this is where the action is going to start picking up. Basically, I've set up a really dangerous mission, and guess who's going to be going on it: our heroes! Note that this is going to be a great time to check out my poll, because very soon, there will be a big pile of bodies! Anyways, I hope you guys are enjoying the story, and I will see you next time!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever-changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	9. Landing

Hello again!

Sorry I took so long to update; I've been really busy. I would like to thank all my reviewers; You guys are what keeps me writing this stuff. Anyways, I'm probably just babbling now; I should let you get to what you came here for!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

R'vek sat in his seat aboard the small human vessel, guns strapped to his back, an energy sword at his belt. Four plasma grenades were clamped to his belt, and R'vek absentmindedly toyed with one of them. Mark came over to him, and sat next to him. The young Human was clad in baggy, black combat fatigues, and had an assault rifle and two pistols at his belt. R'vek stared out the window across from him, his eyes steely.

"Hey, I'm Mark," said the human next to him, proffering his hand. R'vek didn't turn his head.

"R'vek Kehrim," he replied, his voice cold. Mark looked uncomfortably at the tall Sangheili, and tried to start a conversation.

"So, you were the first to volunteer, right R'vek?" he asked, trying to get a response from the alien. "Why are you doing this? You must be a real combat jockey!" R'vek's face twitched, and he whipped his head around to face Mark. His eyes were tightened to slits, and his energy sword, though not activated, was gripped in his hand, his knuckles whitening from how hard he was gripping the weapon.

"No, Human," he said, his voice acidic. "The Brutes took my wife!" R'vek leaned in close to Mark's face, glaring into the young man's eyes. "Know, Mark, that I have no love of Humans, and that if you get in between me and Tira, I will _kill_ you!" R'vek sat back in his seat, his back slamming against the metal backrest with a dull thud. Mark stared at him, and R'vek just stared out the window, his elbows resting on his knees.

Mark shifted in his seat slightly, uneasy. This R'vek Kehrim seemed very mentally unstable; something must have happened to him. "What happened to you?" asked Mark, his voice blank. R'vek sighed.

"I was 17 EY when I was inducted into the Covenant military. That was 6 years ago, but I remember it like yesterday. My first battle is one I shall never forget." R'vek sighed, delving into his memories. "It was a terrible fight; I killed many, and saw my comrades and Brothers slain on all sides. We were holding against Human forces, but not very well. I was terrified; this was not the glorious battle that I had expected; this was a bloodbath. Things seemed to turn our way when a Scarab entered the battlefield, but you humans then deployed your 'secret weapon': The Demon. He destroyed the Scarab, and a piece of its armor plating struck me in the back an in my leg. My body screamed with pain as the hot metal struck my flesh. When I landed, the metal fragment had crushed my leg into a mangled mass of flesh and bone. I could see my Honor spilling out of my wound and into the ground before my very eyes, and I could feel my hearts pounding, louder than the beat of any drum of war. This as not the end of my sorrow." R'vek paused, his eyes shut against the memories, trying to block them out. "The Demon, known to you as the Master Chief, was walking towards me. I tried to crawl away, but he kicked me in the ribs, flipping my body over. He stood on my chest with one foot, and stared into my eyes through that cold mask of death that hides his face as I looked down the barrel of his gun. At age 17, I thought that my life would end in pain and terror. I survived that day only because of the assistance of R'tak, who is now dead, killed by the Parasite before my own eyes. He managed to throw the Demon off balance, so instead of dying that day, I now wear three bright scars in my shoulder." R'vek paused, breathing heavily. "Tira, my wife, is my only pillar of stability in this universe; I love her more that I have love for myself or my forefathers." R'vek's eyes narrowed, and he glared out the window, his hands clenched into fists. "The Jiralhanae who took her will wish they were never born!"

* * *

Innocence sat in his chair glaring out the window. "Mortis, you idiot," he muttered under his breath. The newly appointed chieftain was quickly becoming a pain, but the problem was Innocence needed him. The Brute had a vicious streak unlike any other, and was more devoted to the Faith than most Shan'Shyuum. The doors behind him slid open, and Innocence scowled. "Enter," he said in a low tone, his voice dark. He heard footsteps behind him but they were soft, not like those of a Jiralhanae. Innocence turned, and saw a Human walking slowly towards him, to Jiralhanae standing at the door behind him. He wore a wrinkled UNSC uniform, and a strange, tubular piece of paper hung from his mouth, smoking at its tip. Innocence scowled. "What is a human doing aboard my ship?" he said menacingly, his gaze directed at the two soldiers at the door. The two Jiralhanae said nothing.

"I," said the human boy in a heavy accent, "have information that you might need." Innocence looked down at him, his eyes enraged. How dare this human worm speak such to him?! Innocence calmed himself; despite his anger and pride, if the Human had useful information, then he should hear him out.

"What is it?" demanded Innocence , leaning back in his chair. The human grinned, and spat the paper in his mouth onto the ground, grinding it into the floor with the heel of his boot.

"The Demon lives."

* * *

R'vek jumped out of the Alliance dropship as it set down on the Ring, his boots sending up a cloud of dust as he hit the ground. The team he was with was small; only fifty members, and among those were himself, the remainder of the Sanghieli Guardians, the Arbiter, R'tas Vadum, Zek and Jyn, and strangely, Q'Tari. Although untrained female Sangheili would normally never be allowed on any military mission, because of her apathy towards the flood and her surprising physical abilities, she was allowed to come along with them. R'vek grunted as he thought this over; indeed, if he remembered anything about the Halo Rings, it was that they more often than not swarmed with Flood. As the ship landed, the rest of the group got out, and they formed ranks, with R'vek, Mark, the Arbiter, and R'tas taking the front line. As they charged into the jungle around them, R'vek ignited his energy sword with a loud crack, sending flocks of brightly colored native birds flying into the air from the trees. A he ran, he stared ahead grimly; the Brutes had robbed him of his home, his mate, and had stolen his life from him. Now, he would rend theirs from their bodies.

* * *

So! Everyone is coming together! Sorry for the short chapter, but alas, it had to be done. What will happen next? Only time may tell...

"The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns."

- Baeowulf-


	10. Beasts

Hello again!

Sorry for the delay in updates; I've been busy lately. Anyways, here we return to our heroes (and a Grunt) as they explore the jungles of the Ring. What lies in the vast expanses of foliage? Continue on, dear reader, and find out...

And now, we return to our feature presentation.

* * *

John ran through the jungle, Kwakap close behind him. The small Grunt was panting, and starting to wheeze; he needed more methane, and fast. The green armored Spartan slowed, allowing the panting grunt behind him to catch up.

"Ho…Ho…Hold on!" panted Kwakap, leaning his hands on the ground. In order to keep up, he had had to revert to loping along on his arms and legs, but his lack of fresh methane still slowed him down. "I can't keep up, Cyborg!" The chief rolled his eyes behind his visor at Kwakap's comment, but stopped as he heard a branch snap. John drew his rifle, slowly scanning the foliage. Slowly, more branches began snapping, the sound of splintering wood echoing around them, boxing them in with walls of sound. Slowly, John and Kwakap moved back to back, nervously glancing around as the rate of snapping accelerated.

"John," muttered Cortana, "I'm detecting multiple unidentified lifeforms, but I'm fuzzy on their locations. They seem to be using the trees as… as cloaking." Suddenly, the snapping stopped.

"Gone?" muttered the Spartan, relaxing his grip on his battle rifle. As if in answer, the woods around him exploded as his stalkers descended upon him.

* * *

R'vek's head snapped taut on his neck as he heard gunfire rattling off in the distance. It came from the east, and sounded like a Human automatic weapon.

"Combat, to the east!" he shouted, dashing off into the woods before anyone could even begin to follow him. He faintly heard a call of "R'vek! Wait!', but he didn't even register. As the gunfire rattled off again and again, all he could think of was Tira: gunfire meant combat, and as far as he was concerned, combat meant Brutes, thus bringing him one step closer to Tira. As R'vek drew closer, he began to hear branches and twigs snapping around him, a cacophony of sounds, but he paid them no heed. The sounds grew louder, but still R'vek paid no attention to them. Suddenly, the sounds grew so loud as to drown out the gunshots, enveloping R'vek in a curtain of noise. The frenzied Sangheili slowed to a walk, and eventually stood still. Just as suddenly as it began, the sound stopped. R'vek turned around, and barely managed to draw his sword before he was tackled to the ground by the creature that lunged out at him from the broken branches.

* * *

Master Chief slammed his rifle across the monster's jaw, throwing it off his chest and onto the ground. The armored Spartan jumped to his feet, facing the hideous creature, holding his rifle at the ready. The monster looked like a horrid cross between a panther, a hyena, and a snake: it was black and sleek like a cat, had the skull of a canine, and had a long tail and scaly, slick skin like a reptile. The monster had fangs as long as John's forearm, and its lips pulled back so that its entire face melted into a gaping maw. Its blood red eyes were sunken into its sockets, and long spines dripping with acrid venom lined its back. The beast hissed at John, its long, purple, snakelike tongue curling horrifically out of its mouth, green saliva dripping from its mouth, hissing and steaming as it hit the jungle floor. The abomination lunged at John 117, unhinging its jaw and unsheathing its claws as it flew through the air towards its prey. The Spartan jumped out of the way, rolling across the ground and coming up on his knees. John-117 opened fire on the creature, blasting away at it with a full clip of ammo from his BR, staring calmly as his rounds buried themselves into the beast's flesh. The monster howled as the bullets slammed into its body, drilling clean holes into its flesh. Bright purple blood oozed from its many wounds, glowing slightly and dripping from its smooth, black skin onto the jungle floor. The monster turned towards John… and hissed, its long tongue lolling out of its mouth. Slowly, the holes in its side began to close, and John could see the bullets buried in its flesh being drawn into its body. As the monster's wounds closed, it arched its back, bristling out its spines. With a convulsive shock, it snapped its spines taut, and small balls of metal, the bullets John had fired into it, exploded from its body, whizzing through the air in all directions, coated in venom. The Master Chief's eyes widened beneath his visor, and the hail of bullets struck him in the chest.

"Chief! Look out!" shouted Cortana, a moment too late. John fell to the ground as the balls struck him, knocking down his shields, but fortunately not puncturing his armor.

"Bit late, Cortana," muttered the Spartan, quickly jumping to his feet. The monster growled, and leaped at him, its long claws extended, its enormous maw opened wide. The monster bore John to the ground, crashing into him. The armored Spartan grabbed the monster's jaw, forcing it open, and the beast gnashed its teeth, struggling against his grip, its long, serpentine tongue coating his visor with slime.

"Analyzing target", muttered Cortana, and John began to see small squares move across his field of vision, locking onto certain points on the hostile creature. Finally, a secure target was found. Large, red circle appeared over the monster's mouth, flashing quickly. "John! Go for its mouth! Try to get something inside it!" The Spartan didn't need a second warning. He heaved with all his strength, throwing the beast from his body, and slugging it across the jaw as he felt his shields recharging, and ran for his rifle. As he scooped it up off the ground, he could hear the beast chasing him, growing ever closer. Finally, he slapped a new clip into the rifle, turned around, and fired. The beast was leaping at him, its mouth open impossibly wide. As John fired, every single bulled sped down the creature's gullet, shredding through its soft, fleshy insides. The beast howled in agony, and fell to the jungle floor as its internal organs were shredded by metal, until finally, it rocked with one last spasm of defiance, and lay still.

* * *

R'vek struggled against the monstrosity that had pinned him to the ground, his hands wrapped around the beast's jaws. He could feel its sharp teeth against his flesh, could smell its hot breath, and could hear its ravenous howls. The beast thrashed its head back and forth, throwing R'vek's grip off, and sank its long teeth into R'vek's shoulder, its long fangs piercing his flesh and exiting out the other side. R'vek howled as the beast tore into his shoulder, tears of agony running from his eyes as he felt the abomination's tongue slither into his wound, thirstily lapping up his blood. R'vek could feel himself growing weaker as the monster's paralyzing poison poured into his body, urging him onward to sleep. He felt his eyes slowly closing, and his pain growing numb. The young Sangheili felt as though he was leaving his body, as though everything was becoming oddly distant as he slipped into blackness…

No. R'vek's eyes snapped open, and his arms wrapped around the monster's head with incredible force. The Sangheili warrior howled in rage, forcing his muscles against the lure of the creatures poison, squeezing its head. "No," he muttered as he gripped the beast's jaw, now on his feet and grappling openly with it, "I will not die today! I WILL NOT DIE TODAY!" With a feral roar, R'vek pressed against the beast with all his might, and threw it backwards. The monster hissed, and jumped back to its feet, snarling. It charged at R'vek, slashing out with its deadly claws. The Sangheili dodged, but the claws hooked under his armor, rending it in two and tearing the cuirass from R'vek's body. Even in the rage he was immersed in, R'vek knew he was vulnerable, that his helmet limited his vision. Even while rolling out of the way of the monster's attack, R'vek tore his helmet from his head, dropping it to the ground. He turned, and roared, a feral, monstrous sound, and charged the beast, his mandibles flared. He grabbed the beast, wrapping its neck in his arms, trying to crush the life out of it. The monster howled, struggling against R'vek's grip, but the enraged Sangheili was too strong; his already considerable strength was practically doubled by adrenaline and rage. R'vek heard the beast's neck popping, and with a scream of "TIIRAAA!", he snapped its neck.

* * *

Zek turned his head as he heard the cry, recognizing the voice. "R'vek!" he called, taking off through the bushes, the rest of the troop following closely. As they crashed through a final wall of brush, they stopped, dumbfounded: R'vek stood in a small clearing, blood running from an open wound in his shoulder. His bare chest glistened with sweat, and his chest heaved with each breath. Nearby, his armor lay shredded on the ground, and his helmet was discarded. But what was most impressive wasn't his injuries, nor his destroyed armor: it was what he held. Above his head, the panting Sangheili held an enormous monster. Its skin was black and scaly, and it had the head of a canine but the body of a feline. Spines ran in two rows down its back, and it had a long serpentine tail. R'vek turned, and tossed the monstrous corpse to the ground with a thud, and grasped his shoulder. Zek ran towards him, grabbing a medical kit from a stupefied human soldier. The Sangheili sat on a rock, preparing himself for treatment with a scowl.

"Are you here to take my Honor, Kig-Yar?" he said, looking down at Zek as the Kig-Yar popped open the medical kit, organizing the supplies. The Kig-Yar smirked, and chuckled lightly.

"Nothing such today, old friend," he said, grabbing a roll of bandages and a package of disinfectants and medigel. Zek tore open the package, smearing its contents onto R'vek's wound. R'vek winced as the stinging solution was smeared over his wound, but was suddenly relieved as the antibiotics and anti-venoms spread through his body, neutralizing the creature's poison as it spread through his bloodstream. Zek tightly wrapped the bandages around the Sangheili's shoulder before placing the length of cloth in his mouth and biting down, slicing the bandage cleanly with his razor sharp teeth. Zek turned, and saw a human soldier poking the corpse of the dark-skinned monster with the muzzle of his rifle, carefully nudging the body.

"What the hell is this thing?" said the human, and R'vek chuckled.

"I know what it is, Human: large, strong, poisonous… and hard to kill."

* * *

Ha, yes! diabolical monsters that dwell in the jungle and prey on the unweary! What are they? How did they come to be here? Is there more to them than one would firt assume? What is happening within the Tower? Is Tira even still alive?

Find out in the next thrilling episode of...

The Ring!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever-changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	11. Torment

Hello again!

Ugh, I have a cold that is killing me, but here's another update! Everything's beginning to come together, and when it does...

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Innocence sat in his throne within the Grand Tower, deep in his thoughts. "So, the Demon lives," he muttered to himself as he rapped his fingers on his ornate throne's armrest, "and a group of Alliance soldiers are here to rescue him." Innocence thought, deep in concentration. The human youth had indeed proved useful, and still was: he had worked in communications, and understood Alliance code and how to intercept their transmissions. Innocence scowled; he knew that this small team was likely only the beginning of a larger effort. The Alliance knew of the existence of the Ring, and as history had proved, they would soon launch a full scale attack on the Ring, flooding the holy relic of the Forerunners with inferior beings like the Humans and Heretic races like the Kig-Yar. Innocence frowned; according to the youth, somehow a few thousand Sangheili had managed to escape destruction. After thinking for a while, Innocence departed from his throne, dropping to the floor and hobbling towards the door with the help of a slender cane. It was about time he interrogated Mortis' prisoner.

* * *

Tira sat in the steel chair, her vision blurry. She didn't know how long she'd been bound in this chair; only that she was cold, hungry, and in pain. Her shoulder ached from when it had been stabbed, and her body bore several bruises as testament to the torture exacted by the Jiralhanae. She heard the doors open, and winced against the light as her eyes adjusted, cringing away from the two shadows that entered.

"Mortis," she spat, her voice trembling with fear under her attempt to sound calm, "why have you come? Are you here to torture me again?" She heard deep chuckling from the other side of the room, and a harsh whisper followed by heavy footsteps leaving the room. A lighter set proceeded forward, and slowly Tira opened her eyes. In front of her stood a Prophet. Tira's hearts pounded in her breast: the arrival of a Prophet could mean either a reprieve from the brutal tortures to which she had been exposed… or an incredible intensification of them. The grey-skinned San'Shyuum's cold, black, eyes stared into hers, and his mouth was carved into a scowl.

"Tira Kehrim?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Tira pressed her head back into the back of the chair, eyes widening.

"…Yes…" she squeaked quietly, far more terrified of this small, frail Prophet than she would be of the largest M'glek'golo. The Prophet chuckled, his laugh sounding cold and malicious. His frown curved into a cruel smile, and his face morphed into what Tira assumed was his attempt at a comforting expression.

"Do not worry, child," said the Prophet in a twisted mockery of a soothing tone, "there is nothing to fear. I am Innocence." Tira's pulse accelerated, and her breathing quickened. If she knew anything from the names of the former Prophets and their personalities, then Innocence could very well be the most evil of them all.

"What do you want?" Tira whispered, trying to sound brave. Innocence smiled, his eyes narrowing.

"To help you, child. I can release you from this prison, and I will. However, I ask only one thing in return for my kindness; a small, petty piece of information." Tira was uneasy; Prophet's were sly, and this one's words held layer over layer of deceit.

"What is it you wish me to tell you?" replied Tira cautiously. Innocence smiled.

"If you will tell me everything you know about the one called R'vek Kehrim, I shall set you free," said Innocence, grinning. "Tell me his past, his combat tactics, his strengths, his personalities, his…" Innocence paused, and grinned at Tira before leaning in close to her ear, "his weaknesses." Tira's eyes widened; she wasn't stupid. If the Prophet wanted information on R'vek, that meant that Innocence wanted to kill him, and if a Prophet was going out of its way to find information on one particular person, it meant that that person was a pressing problem. And if R'vek was a problem big enough to attract Innocence's attention… it meant that he was here. Tira smiled, hope filling her heart for the first time in what seemed like ages.

"Innocence…" she whispered, drawing in the cold Prophet, "I will not tell you anything about my mate." Innocence scowled, glaring at her.

"And why is that, child?" he whispered threateningly. Tira glared back at him, her face full of anger and resolve.

"Because you wish to know about him. If a "Holy Prophet" such as yourself wishes to know about somebody, it means that they want that person dead. If you want R'vek dead, it means he is a problem, and if he is a problem…" Tira grinned, taking immense pleasure in Innocence's growing rage and surprise, "It means he is here. You should be afraid, Innocence. R'vek will come, and he will come for me. And once he finds me…" Tira paused, and exploded into anger, releasing all of her pain and fear and rage on Innocence, "he will gut you like the worm you are, and spill what little Honor you possess over your lifeless corpse!" Innocence stumbled backwards, his face a mask of rage and disgust. He walked forward, hobbling along without his cane, and slapped Tira hard across the face, his claws and many rings slicing open her flesh and letting long trails of her azure blood drip down her face. Tira cried out in pain, and Innocence, glared at her hatefully.

"How DARE you speak to me as such!" he roared, clenching his hand into a fist and ramming it into Tira's gut. Tira's body bucked with the impact, and Innocence could hear the wind rushing from her lungs. "I am the High Prophet, Sangheili wench!" Innocence stepped back, and began pressing small buttons on his rings. "I tried to be civil with you, Heretic, but now I see that that is impossible." Innocence stepped forward, his fingers spread, energy crackling between them. He grinned, reveling in anticipation for what he was going to do. "You will tell me everything you know, Tira. It may take days, but you will talk." With that, Innocence placed his hands on the sides of Tira's head, pressing his palms and his fingers into her flesh. Tira screamed in agony as electricity coursed through her body, jolting in agony as the shocks racked her frame. Innocence withdrew his hands, deactivating his rings. "Are you ready to talk now, Tira Kehrim?" he whispered, his voice cruel. Tira looked up at him, and spat in his face. Innocence wiped the spit from his visage, scowling. He plunged his fingers into Tira's chest, and released a short, swift shock. Tira's body jolted, and she fell, slumping against the chair, slowly sinking into unconsciousness. Innocence walked away, retrieving his cane and hobbling towards the door. The last thing Tira heard before the darkness claimed her was "Make sure she doesn't die, and do let R'vek and his friends know where we are. We wouldn't want to separate these two for too long!"

* * *

John snapped two of the beast's spines off, strapping them across his back. They were rigid, sharp, and strong; if the need arose, these qualities plus their poison would make them excellent weapons. The armored Spartan stood from the kill, and Cortana appeared on his viewscreen. She looked disgusted, and wrinkled her nose.

"John, can we go?" she said, complaining. "Remember, I can see, hear, and… _smell_ whatever you do, and this isn't pleasant…" John grunted in reply, mainly ignoring Cortana. He looked at the body of the monster one last time to see if there was anything else he could use, and turned to leave.

"Kwakap!" he shouted, scanning the trees for the young Unggoy. "Kwakap! Get down here! Where are you?!" suddenly, John heard a yell and a thump from behind him. He turned around, gun ready, but lowered it when he saw who it was: it was Kwakap. The Grunt had fallen out of a tree, and had managed to get his legs tangled up in vines. Kwakap sat up, and using the bony spikes on his elbows, sliced through the vines, freeing his legs. He looked at John, and motioned towards his methane meter: the bar was nearly at empty. John nodded; if Kwakap was going to survive, they had to go to the only place of civilization they had yet seen. They had to return to the tower.

* * *

R'vek stood, his eyes closed, spreading his arms and basking in the morning sun. He hadn't yet received new armor, and his bare chest glistened with sweat. R'vek opened his eyes, and turned away, walking back towards the camp. Silently, he crept into the supply room, searching through the many containers until, finally, he found what he was searching for. He held it up; it was a purple suit of Sangheili armor, and about his size. Whispering a small prayer, R'vek donned the suit, silently slipping into it. After R'vek had donned the armor, her grabbed a pair of frag grenades and a pair of plasma grenades, an energy sword, and a plasma rifle. After fully equipping himself, R'vek left the tent, silently sneaking out of the camp. If he was to find Tira, he couldn't wait for the others; he had to go himself.

R'vek ran into the forest, barely making any sounds, completely alert. As he ran through the brush, he prepared himself for the coming battle. There would be many Jiralhanae, and likely a support contingent of Yanme'e as well. Suddenly he heard a snapping noise. R'vek turned, his rifle ready, and peered through the brush. A group of five Jiralhanae stalked through the bushes, all armed to the teeth. Four of them wore typical combat armor, but the fifth, at the head of the group, wore an elaborate helmet and decorated pauldrons, and wore a gravity hammer strapped across his back. R'vek grinned; this was his chance. The lithe Sangheili warrior climbed into the trees, and activated his energy blade, muffling its sound with the surrounding foliage. Silently R'vek followed the group, stalking his prey like some great jungle cat. Eventually, the group came to a clearing and stopped. R'vek could hear them talking, and nodded to himself; it was time. Silently, R'vek unclipped a frag grenade from his armor, pulling the pin and silently counting away the seconds. After five seconds had passed, he dropped the grenade down into the middle of the pack of Brutes, and waited. The Jiralhanae never knew what hit them. The grenade exploded, flinging the Brutes in all directions, knocking out their shields, and killing two of them instantly. R'vek dropped from the tree, landing gracefully on the ground with his sword ready. R'vek leaped in to battle, turning his body around and slicing the head off of a Brute within the first few seconds of combat. The other Jiralhanae opened fire on him, slowly backing away, and the Chief dropped his gun and readied his gravity hammer. The Chief charged R'vek, howling as he brought his hammer down, seeking to crush the Sangheili warrior's skull. R'vek nimbly dodged to the side, allowing the Brute to fly harmlessly past before stabbing him through the back with his sword and tearing the blade up and out of his body, slicing out his lungs. R'vek charged the last remaining Brute, roaring, and slammed his empty hand into the Jiralhanae's throat, lifting the soldier up against a tree and aiming his energy sword at his prisoner. The lesser Jiralhanae kicked and struggled, but couldn't budge against R'vek's adrenaline fueled grip.

"Where is she?!" demanded R'vek, staring in disgust and rage at the cowardly Jiralhanae before him.

"Wh… What are you talking about?" replied the soldier, stuttering in his low, guttural voice. R'vek's eyes narrowed.

"You know what I'm talking about! Where are your bastard superiors keeping Tira?!" The Jiralhanae struggled against R'vek, but to no avail.

"There is a tower to the east! We have one Sangheili prisoner, I don't know any- " the Brute never finished his sentence. R'vek stabbed the Jiralhanae in the gut, cooking his innards with his energy blade. R'vek loosened his grip, and let the corpse slide smoking to the ground. Absentmindedly, R'vek fingered his betrothal amulet. He had a direction; he knew where Tira was. Soon, very soon, the Jiralhanae would regret being born! Soon, so very soon, Mortis would face the wrath of R'vek Kehrim!

* * *

So! Seems like poor Tira's being interrogated by Innocence himself! One can only wonder what horrible tortures he has in store for the helpless Sangheili...

Will R'vek get to Tira in time? Will Kwakap get more methane before he suffocates? How will R'vek react if he and Master Chief arrive at the Tower at the same time? Only time may tell...

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns...

- Baeowulf


	12. Confrontation

Hello!

It's me again, and I am glad to say that this is my longest chapter in some time!

I'm hope that everyone is enjoying the story, and I would like to thank all my reviewers!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

R'vek crouched in the brush, looking intently on his target. In front of him, in the middle of a large clearing, loomed an immense, slivery tower. The entire thing was smooth and perfect, and had obviously been designed by a creature with an artistic, yet cold, aesthetic taste. Around the base of the tower, the jungle had been cleared away in a clean circle, the moist brown soil morphing into dusty, dry ground that was a part of the destruction caused by Jiralhanae. Brute soldiers stood sentry outside the tower, and a number of the strange ships that had attacked and destroyed Sanghelios sat in the clearing. As he scanned the ground, R'vek spotted a few azure spots on the ground: spatters of Sangheili blood. R'vek's hearts pounded in his chest, and his eyes widened: Tira was here. Alive or dead, she was here. Glancing down at himself, he pulled his amulet out from under his armor, smiling as he twirled the suns and moons in his hand before placing it to his forehead and pressing it against his skin. R'vek slid the amulet back under his armor, and snapped his energy sword to life, preparing himself for battle. Holding his rifle in his left hand and his sword in his right, R'vek charged out of the brush, roaring as he ran. The Jiralhanae turned towards him, startled and stunned to see a living Sangheili outside the Tower. Their hesitance would cost them. R'vek opened fire, blasting at the Brutes until his rifle overheated. The Jiralhanae dived out of the way, and R'vek threw aside the exhausted rifle, allowing his rage and hatred to take over. With a roar, the Sangheili warrior leaped into the air, his sword lifted high above his head. As he came down above one of the Jiralhanae, R'vek brought his sword down with all his strength, cramming both his hands onto its hilt, ramming it into the Brute. The Jiralhanae soldier howled in agony as his body was cleaved horizontally in two, its crackling blade searing his flesh and slicing through his spine. R'vek swiftly turned away from the dying Jiralhanae, sword leading. The four remaining Brute sentries opened fire on him, two of them dual wielding Spikers while the other two carried massive Brute-shots. R'vek ran around the group of enemies in a wide circle as spikes peppered the ground behind him and explosives burst around him, barely thinking. Suddenly, he turned sharply and leaped straight towards the group, blade ready. He smashed into a Jiralhanae, driving his sword through the soldier's heart as he landed, killing it instantly before he got up and ran at the others in one fluid motion. R'vek slashed wildly, forcing the Brutes to back away, until suddenly, he felt a massive impact on the back of his leg and was thrown to the ground. A bomb launched from the Brute-shot had hit him in the leg, dropping his shields and blasting open his armor. R'vek lay on the ground in pain, watching as the three grinning Brutes closed in on him. He shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable, and the Brutes surrounded him.

* * *

John watched from the brush as a lone Sangheili charged from the bushes, roaring and firing at the Jiralhanae. He wondered why an Elite would be here of all places, and what had possessed this one of attacking the tower alone. The Spartan watched as the Elite fought against the Brutes, nodding slowly.

"Do you think we should help him?" asked Cortana thoughtfully.

"Not unless we have to," replied John. "Something about this one seems familiar, and that usually means that I tried to kill it." Kwakap came out of the brush behind John, panting.

"Over there!" he said, pointing towards a small structure outside the tower, seeming not to notice the battle. The structure was a small metal dome with a rubber hose attached to it. At the end of the hose was a metal nozzle, and on the dome was an activation wheel. Kwakap started for it, but John caught him by the shoulder, roughly turning him around to face the battle. "Oh," Kwakap whispered, realizing that revealing himself now would probably be a bad idea. Suddenly, John heard a loud explosion, followed by the faint sound of shields dropping and a Sangheilian roar of pain. The Spartan whipped around, gun ready. The Brutes had knocked the Elite to the ground, and had blasted the armor off of his left leg.

"Would you say that he absolutely needs our help now, Chief?" Cortana asked, her voice calculative.

"Affirmative." John charged out of the brush, opening fire on the Brutes as they surrounded the downed Elite. The Brutes turned, firing on the Spartan, but he was too quick for them. He watched as his bullets bounced off of their shields harmlessly, ricocheting into the jungle. "Cortana, analysis!" shouted Master Chief over the roar of gun fire, all the while keeping his aim trained on his adversaries.

"Their shields are too strong; standard UNSC weaponry is ineffective," stated Cortana matter-of-factly. "Try using a weapon from one of the downed Brutes." John nodded, and bolted towards the body of a Brute that had been hacked apart by a swipe from an energy sword. As he ran, he scooped up the two spikers that the Brute had wielded, dropping his Battle Rifle to the ground as he did. John turned, and jumped, his body sidelong as he fired upon the Brutes as he sailed through the air. The ammo from the Brute guns tore through their shields, shredding apart their flesh with brutal efficiency. The Jiralhanae howled as they felt the agonizing pain of their own weaponry, and two of them fell to the ground as their blood burst from their chests before the hail of fire. As John hit the ground, he went into a roll and came up running, silently charging the last remaining Brute. The monstrous soldier roared, opening fire on the Spartan, blasting away with his brute-shot, but his wounds making him miss wildly. As the Spartan neared the Brute, it roared at him, leveling its gun at him and firing, a shot that should have hit the Spartan in the chest and slain him. John leaped over the shot, sailing towards the Brute, and as he came within melee range, he thrust one of the spikers forward. The bladed weapon smashed into the Brute's face, crushing its skull and driving its nose back into its brain. The Brute's head exploded under the amazing force, and John bore its lifeless body to the ground. The Spartan stood, and wiped the gore from his gun off on the Brute's body. This fight was over.

* * *

R'vek opened his eyes, wondering why he wasn't dead. As he looked around, he heard the rattle of gunfire, and the howls of Jiralhanae, until suddenly, all went silent. That's when R'vek saw _him_. A lone, green-armored Spartan stood, his arms hanging casually at his sides, his orange visor glinting in the sunlight: the Demon. R'vek's pace quickened, his eyes going wide. The young Sangheili flipped himself over onto his back, scrambling backwards, futilely trying to move away, but his injured leg stopped him. He watched in terror as the Demon approached him, his face hidden behind his cold, emotionless mask, his entire visage screaming of death to R'vek. R'vek's breathing grew heavy, and his eyes widened as his mind flashed back to the moment when he nearly died at the Demon's hands, his memory flashing back to that horrible, agonizing day. As the Demon neared R'vek, he knelt down, proffering his hand and staring R'vek in the eyes.  
"Are you alright?" asked the Demon. R'vek barely registered his words. With an adrenaline fueled roar, he leaped to his feet, slashing at the Demon with his sword. The demon jumped back, his face hidden behind his mask. R'vek charged at him, roaring in a frenzy, slashing wildly.

"What are you doing?!" shouted the Demon, deftly dodging R'vek's strikes. "I am your ally!" R'vek didn't hear him. The young Sangheili charged at the Demon, roaring.

"YOU"LL NOT KILL ME TODAY, DEMON!" he shouted, roaring. R'vek jumped into the air, bringing his sword down where the Demon's head should be, waiting for the final end to his torment that would come with the ending of the Demon. It never came. He felt a booted foot strike his back, throwing him to the ground, and felt a kick to his side, flipping him over. The Demon planted a foot on his chest and pointed a Spiker, still stained from Jiralhanae gore, in his face. R'vek stared down the barrel of the gun, thinking that after all he had been through, after all he'd done, he would die at the hands of the Demon, just another name on his long list of kills. R'vek's head sank to the ground in defeat, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. "I'm sorry, Tira. I am so sorry. I could not save you," he whispered, tears running down his face as he prepared to die. Death never came.

"Are you a loyalist, or are you a separatist?" he heard the Demon say, stunned at the question. R'vek looked up at the Demon's visor, and saw that while the gun was still being pointed at him, the Demon's finger was not wrapped around the trigger.

"Stop toying with me, Demon!" R'vek said coldly. "The Covenant is long dissolved, and the Sangheili are nearly gone now. But you wouldn't care; you are merely an agent of death! Stop your toying, and finish what you started six years ago! Kill me, so that I may know if Tira lives or does not!" The Demon lowered his gun, holstering it at his side.

"A separatist, then," muttered the green-armored human. "What is your name, Sangheili, and who is Tira?" R'vek stared at the Demon, his eyes filled with hatred.

"You cannot tell me you do not remember me, Demon. Do you not take the courtesy of knowing the names of those you try to kill while they lie helpless on the ground? I am R'vek Kehrim, son of Kr'Tek, and Tira is my lifemate, and the only reason for my wretched existence." R'vek moaned, a hopeless pitiful sound. "Why must you torment me with false hopes, Demon?" he asked plaintively. "Why have you not yet killed me like I know is your intent?" The Demon took his foot off of R'vek's chest, and offered his hand to the miserable Sangheili.

"Because I did not come here to kill you today, R'vek, or any other of your race," he said. R'vek looked at his hand, and slowly, he took it. The Demon helped him to his feet, and R'vek stared hard into the armored man's visor, wondering what his expression might be behind that mask.

"Then what is your intention, Demon?" asked R'vek, confused. He still hated the armored monster, but he was beginning to feel that those feelings were misplaced. After all, the Demon had just helped him to stand.

"I am here to salvage civilian life." The Demon turned, and pointed his face toward the jungle. "Kwakap!" he shouted, his voice gravelly. "The Brutes are neutralized! Refuel your methane tank before you run out!" As the armored man said this, a small, young Unggoy loped out of the forest, sprinting towards a small device with a rubber hose ending in a metal nozzle attached to it. The Unggoy plugged the hose into his methane tank, filling it with the, for him, life giving gas, and breathing deeply and audibly as the tank reached full. R'vek raised an eyebrow quizzically, staring at the Grunt.

"Who's this?" he said, turning his head back towards the Demon.

"This is Kwakap, a civilian I found that had escaped from this tower," explained the Demon.

"Is everything alright, mister Cyborg?" shouted Kwakap, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Kwakap, wait in the jungle until I return!" shouted the Demon. "That's an order!" The Unggoy turned away, and walked back into the jungle, moping. The Demon turned back towards R'vek, his stance calm. "I believe I may have seen this 'Tira' of yours, Sangheili," he said, his voice black. R'vek's eyes widened; the Demon had seen Tira?!

"I swear, Demon, If you hurt her…" whispered R'vek, his voice full of rage.

"I did not." The Demon paused, his back straight and his posture military. "When I saw her, she was being taken into the tower by a group of Brutes. The leader had a heavily scarred face, presumably from burn trauma." R'vek's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Mortis," he muttered, his face a mask of hate. "I tell you this Demon; If you will help me rescue Tira, I will fight with you, but if you make even a single move to betray, if you even hint that your intentions are not to help Tira, then I will gut you like a worm, and I will rend what Honor you have from your lifeless body!" The Demon nodded, and drew his guns. R'vek nodded back; the Demon was his ally.

* * *

R'vek and Master Chief approached the door to the Tower, staring at it intently. R'vek grinned; he knew how they would get in. The young Sangheili approached the steel door, and cracked his blade back to life, flexing his fingers around its hilt. The Sangheili warrior drew back the blade… and plunged it into the door. The blade bounced off the doors, but it created more than what R'vek needed: a small hole in the smooth surface; a hole large enough for a grenade. R'vek pulled out his remaining fragmentation grenade, pulled the pin, and placed the ball in the cavity, before jogging back to where the Spartan stood. John started towards the door, but R'vek caught him by the shoulder, a grin spread across his face.

"Wait," he said, and suddenly, the pair heard a loud explosion. The doors flew from the tower as the grenade went off, and R'vek and the Master Chief charged into the building, weapons ready. A pair of startled Jiralhanae opened fire on them, and the two warriors rushed them, weapons ready. R'vek barreled into the on the left, driving his sword into the Jiralhanae's gut. The Jiralhanae spasmed as the blade seared his innards, and R'vek ended his cries by tearing the blade out and decapitating him in a single, clean blow. Master Chief opened fire, filling the Brute to the right with steel spikes and dropping the soldier to the ground before firing a single shot into the downed Brute's face to end him once and for all. The two warriors charged on into the facility as alarms blared around them, blasting their way through doors and all who stood in their way. They ran down the spiraling hallways, climbing up into the tower until finally, after what seemed like days of fighting, they came to an immense chamber. They stopped, and looked up. The ceiling was lined with round, tubular holes, and the walls were slick and reflective. They slowly walked into the middle of the room, cautiously glancing around. "What is this place?" Yellow slime dripped from the ceiling spattering onto the floor.

_The place of your death_ sounded a voice in their minds, and an immense swarm of Yanme'e burst out of the ceiling onto the two warriors.

* * *

Tira lifted her head, snapping awake as she heard the explosion. While she was asleep, Mortis had fastened her arms behind her back, holding her securely against the metal chair. Her body was bruised, and three scabs ran along her face where Innocence had slapped her, but now, she could barely even remember this. "R'VEK!" she screamed, calling out to her mate as she heard the distant sounds of battle, sure that he had finally found her. "R'VEK! I'M HERE! I'M HERE, R"VEK!" Tira strained against her bindings, desperately trying to pull free and to escape from this nightmare, but to no avail. The doors slid open, and Mortis stormed in, his face a mask of rage.

"Quiet, Woman!" he shouted, slamming his hand against her throat and pressing it back against the chair, crushing her windpipe. Tira squirmed, gasping for air, and Mortis released his grip, and Tira fell forward, gasping. She looked up at him, her face wild and grinning.

"He's coming, Mortis!" she spat, smiling. "R'vek is coming, and when he gets here, he'll gut you like the worm you are!" Mortis' face contorted in rage, and he slapped Tira across the face, his eye glaring at her. Mortis' face twisted into an evil grin, and he grabbed Tira's chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"Yes, R'vek is coming," he said mockingly. "And when he does, I will end him!"

* * *

R'vek roared as the wave of Yanme'e came down at him from above, their chittering and clacking filling his ears. He lashed out with his sword and sliced one in half, dropping it to the ground. The agile Sangheili scooped up its needler, and began firing madly into the swarm, blasting as many apart as he could. All around him, balls of plasma spattered across the ground, but R'vek saw only one thing: the far door. With a feral roar, he began cutting his way to it, slicing through Yanme'e with abandon, each slash bringing him a step closer to the door. Yanme'e fell before him by the dozen, their slick ichors coating the ground. He heard a distant cry of "R'vek! Wait!" but he paid it no heed. Finally, bloodied and battered, R'vek made it to the door. He sliced his way through, smashing open the door with primarily brute force. The Sangheili burst through, roaring. Brutes came at him from around the corners, but R'vek mercilessly cut them down; they were just fodder, and were barely worth his attention. R'vek ran through the Tower, quickly climbing the up the immensely tall structure, being sure to avoid any automated lifts. Jiralhanae came at him the entire way, and for the entire way he mercilessly cut them down, until eventually he was covered in blood. He was shot, again and again, the bullets tearing much of the armor from his body and rendering his left arm useless. R'vek didn't care; he pushed on almost mindlessly, until finally he smashed through a white metal door and into a hall that led to a single door; a hall that still had a couple drops of blue blood by the far door. Tira. R'vek limped along, his own blood dripping down his arm and mixing with the Jiralhanae blood that covered his body, and sliced his way through the door. He never could have expected what he saw.

Mortis stood at the end of the room, his face grim. In his arms, he held an unconscious Tira, her neck limp, and her arms bound. R'vek's hearts nearly stopped; that was his mate. Her body was bruised, and she bore scabs and cuts across her face and neck. R'vek's eyes grew steely, and his face became grim.

"Put her down, Mortis," he said, standing tall. "This fight is between you and I; she need not be involved." Mortis just chuckled, and drew a wickedly sharp knife from his boot, pressing it against Tira's neck as he pulled her head up. Tira moaned in her sleep, obviously feeling the sharp edge of the blade against her throat. R'vek stopped unsure of what to do.

"I don't think so," said the cruel Jiralhanae across the room as he twisted the knife, drawing small droplets of blood from Tira's neck. Mortis laughed, shouldering his prisoner into a more comfortable position, his arm wrapped under her arm and around her chest so that his hand came over her shoulder. "See, R'vek? I could kill her any time I want! I could kill her now," Mortis drew the blade across Tira's neck, "Or now," he said as he pulled the blade down the front of her chest, cutting free her sweater and tearing her undershirt, "or NOW!" Mortis plunged the blade into Tira's leg, twisting it brutally. Tira screamed in agony as the blade pierced her flesh, spilling her blue blood down her leg, darkening her skirt. Her eyes snapped open as Mortis tore the blade out of her leg, and she panted as the pain coursed through her body. She looked up, and saw R'vek, and her mandibles curved into a smile.

"R'vek!" she yelled, tears of both pain and joy streaming down her face as she saw her war-scarred, but alive mate.

"Tira!" replied R'vek, afraid for his love's life. If he made one wrong move, then Mortis would kill her. He had to play off of Mortis' weaknesses, had to use his personality against him. R'vek thought back to when they had fought together in the Covenant army, remembering how Mortis had behaved in battle. The Jiralhanae had always gone for the tougher kills, always trying to better himself and outdo his allies. Often, he would even ignore lesser opponents, as if they weren't good enough for him. R'vek's eyes snapped wide, and his chest filled with hope: he had an idea. He would use Mortis' pride against him. "Mortis!" he shouted, his tone mocking. "Release Tira!" R'vek grinned as Mortis stared at him, puzzled. "Or are you too much of a coward to fight me without using my mate as a shield?!" Mortis' eyes grew wide, and he wrenched Tira's head back and pressed his blade hard against her throat.

"I am no coward, Heretic!" shouted the Jiralhanae, enraged. R'vek's pulse quickened; one wrong move, and Tira would die.

"Then release Tira, and fight me in fair combat!" shouted R'vek back at him, throwing his arms wide. "I am already wounded; you have the advantage!" R'vek decided that he had to bait Mortis more. "Of course," he said thoughtfully, "you ARE a Jiralhanae! Of course you fear me! Your kind are scum unworthy for me to trod under my boots!" Mortis' muscles tensed at the insults, and he pulled Tira's head back farther, causing her neck to bulge out under her skin.

"How dare you!" shouted the Brute, fully into a rage now. "I'll kill her for what you said! Then we'll see who is the true coward!" Mortis grinned as he slowly drew the blade across Tira's neck, drawing a thin line of blue across her skin.

"R'vek…" whispered Tira, terrified. R'vek shut his eyes; he had to keep his calm. If he did not, she would die. He opened his eyes again, and stared straight into Mortis' eyes, his gaze dead serious.

"Kill her, Mortis," he said, his tone deadly and dripping with hate, "and you prove now and forevermore that you are a murderer and a coward unworthy of being housed with Unggoy." Mortis roared, and threw Tira aside, charging R'vek in his rage, pulling his gravity hammer from his back. R'vek drew his energy sword, calming himself and bringing himself into the Zen state of a warrior that he had been taught by his masters back on Sanghelios. R'vek dodged out of the way as Mortis barreled past him, nimbly sidestepping the charging Brute. All of his pain faded into the back of R'vek's mind, and he fell into a state of calm, his entire brain focused on the task at hand: slaying Mortis.

"When you lose, R'vek, know that I will not merely kill you!" shouted Mortis as he swung at R'vek with his gravity hammer. "I will keep you barely alive while I force you to watch me slowly torture Tira to death!" Mortis laughed, his false mirth masking his rage. R'vek nimbly leaped aside, his face expressionless.

"I know that if I lose this fight, I shall face a punishment far worse than death," stated R'vek calmly. He suddenly lunged forward, and Mortis barely dodged the strike, R'vek's blade slicing off his immense pauldron. R'vek turned, looking at Mortis over his shoulder. "That is why I will not lose." Mortis roared and charged R'vek, and R'vek merely turned around, keeping calm; this muscle-bound fool would make a mistake in his rage, and with that mistake, R'vek would end him. As Mortis brought the hammer down, R'vek brought his sword up, effectively blocking the hammer strike with his blade. Immediately, R'vek went to work. He slid his blade down the hammer's hilt, and pushed it up, throwing Mortis off balance. Suddenly, R'vek's vision went blurry, and he began to feel dizzy. The world seemed to spin, and he looked down, and noticed for the first time that he was covered in his own blood.

"R"VEK!" he heard in Tira's voice, ever so distant, and he turned his head, just in time to see Mortis' hammer speeding towards his side. As the hammer hit him, time returned to being normal, and R'vek cried out in pain as the blades on the hammer bit into his flesh and the immense force of it shattered his bones. R'vek flew across the room and smashed into the metal floor, lying there, struggling to get up. His hands slipped out from under him, and his breath was laborious. He heard Mortis' heavy footsteps, and the Brute walked over to him, kicking him in the side and flipping him over onto his back before planting his foot on R'vek's chest. Mortis glared down at him, smiling.

"So, R'vek," he said, grinning, his burned face twisting horribly, "it looks like I win!" Mortis brought his hammer up over his head, relishing the moment. Now, finally, he would end R'vek! Finally, he would have his revenge! Finally- Mortis felt a sudden pain, and looked down. R'vek's sword was imbedded through his chest, its blue blade slicing through his heart. Mortis' eyes went wide, and he coughed, blood trickling from his mouth.

"That… was always… your problem, Mortis," panted R'vek, struggling to speak. "You always were… too… proud!" Mortis gasped his final breath, and slid off of R'vek's blade, his limp body thudding heavily to the ground. R'vek's arm dropped to the ground, and he panted heavily, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. It was over.

* * *

So, R'vek killed Mortis, but is seriously wounded and is bleeding to death. The Master Chief is stuck fighting a hive of Yanme'e. What will happen? Will they survive? Or will their names merely become two more on a long list of murders committed by Innocence?

Only time may tell...

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever-changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	13. Death

Hello once again!

Nothing much to say; that's a first!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

John fired wildly into the oncoming crowd of Yanme'e, felling the airborne Drones by the dozens. More poured out of the ceiling tunnels, flying at him angrily, seizing the weapons of their fallen comrades. _You cannot win,_ he heard a voice echo in his mind, the thought forcing its way into his head. It had a vaguely female, but very alien, tone, and was unlike anything he had ever heard.

"Cortana!" shouted the Chief as he dodged enemy fire. "Analyze those tunnels! I want to know what we're dealing with!" Cortana was silent, and John saw a plethora of small screens appear on the interior of his visor, showing a myriad of data he could not possibly understand. Suddenly, all the screens shut down, meaning Cortana had found and answer.

"John," said Cortana calmly, "the above structure is a Yanme'e hive. Each tunnel leads to a large central chamber, where the Queen should reside. Please note traces of Flood have been detected in the tunnels; caution is advised." John nodded, quickly forming a plan. As the next Drone swooped down at him, the powerful Spartan leaped into the air, landing on top of the Drones shelled back and crushing its antigravity device. As the Drone began clicking wildly and starting to fall, John made a tremendous jump from its back, soaring up towards the tunnels. At the last possible moment, his fingers curled around the edge of a slanted tunnel, and he scrambled up into it, drawing his guns as soon as his feet hit the floor. John ran through the tunnels as he heard the Yanme'e closing close behind him, not looking back over his shoulder. As he ran, fleshy growths began to appear on the walls, until eventually, the entire interior of the tunnels were completely covered in Flood infection mass. _Drones! Stop him! _he heard the voice again, and immediately a group of wingless Yanme'e seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him. They opened fire, and the Master Chief deftly dodged the bolts from their plasma pistols, running halfway up the wall of the tunnel and coming down behind them. As he did, he pointed his arms backwards and opened fire, shredding the Drones without even looking. Ad he rounded the corner, John came to an immense chamber, coated with Flood tissue, and with hundreds of eggs imbedded into it. IN the center of the room sat a hideously bloated Yanme'e, its enormously oversized abdomen stretching across the floor and its immense, black eyes staring straight at him.

"_What are you doing here?!"_ demanded the voice in John's mind, the thought issuing from this bloated monstrosity. As John looked upon it, he realized that this must be the Queen, and that it was infected by the Flood. As Master Chief neared the monstrosity, it began chittering at him angrily, waving its mouthpieces futilely. _"You fool!"_it screamed in the Spartan's mind, its voice alien and cold. _"Even if you destroy me, you cannot defeat Innocence! He gave me this gift, and my next brood shall be stronger for it! You cannot win, Demon! You cannot—Aaaagh!"_ The Queen screamed as John fired into her fleshy body, shredding the Flood infection flesh and spattering thick blood across the walls and floors. The monstrous body of the Queen thrashed about the chamber, smashing the eggs that grew in the walls, and finally, it fell still, the life gone from it. Master Chief walked back out of the tunnels, and dropped to the ground, the bodies of the Yanme'e cushioning his fall. Their carapaces crunched beneath his boots, coating them in slime, and he walked through the far door, the one that R'vek had left through earlier. As John walked, he encountered not a single hostile; they were all dead. As he went further in the tower, the red blood of the slain Brutes began to show small dots of blue Elite blood in it; R'vek's blood. Finally, John found the place where, R'vek had gone; two slain Jiralhanae guards lay in front of an immense door, and a trail of Sangheili blood led up to it. John took a deep breath, and pushed through the door.

* * *

Tira ran to R'vek's side, tears dripping from her eyes.

"R'vek!" she shouted, slicing apart her manacles on R'vek's still activated energy sword, kneeling beside him and cradling his head in her hands. "R'vek…" she whispered, sorrow filling her body as she watched her soulmate's life slowly ebbing out of him.

"Tira…" whispered R'vek, reaching up to her. He coughed, a horrible, hacking noise, and blood dribbled from his mouth. "I… I thought… I thought I would never… would never see you again," he said, his mouth curving into a smile. His eyes ran over her body, seeing her scars and her wounds, and he looked into her eyes, his gaze sad. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry that you had to go through all this…" he coughed, his voice strained. "Promise me… promise me you won't … forget me…" Tira's eyes widened, and her body began to shake.

"R'vek… R'vek, you can't die!" she whispered, her voice panicked. R'vek looked up at her and reached out, caressing her face with his hand.

"Tira… He is coming…" coughed R'vek, his eyes serious.

"Who? Who's coming?" said Tira, frantic. R'vek coughed, flecks of blood flying from his gullet.

"The… The Demon," he said, and Tira's eyes went wide. "Go with him, Tira," R'vek said, his voice labored. "He will take you to… take you to safety."R'vek coughed, his eyes starting to close.

"R'vek, stay with me… I can't lose you!" said Tira, holding his head in her hands. R'vek looked up at her, smiling, his eyes sad.

"Goodbye, Tira," he whispered, and his eyes closed. Tira's eyes widened, and tears began to stream down her face.

"NO! R'VEK! NO!" she wailed, beating her hands on R'vek's chest in anguish, sobbing. Suddenly, she heard a haggard gasp; R'vek was still alive! Behind her, she heard the doors to the chamber rush open. Acting on instinct, Tira grabbed R'vek's energy sword, twirling to her feet. She ran at the door with a cry of rage, hoping, praying that it was Innocence come to check on her. She closed her eyes as she charged, relishing the moment. Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her arm, and another grab her other arm holding them wide. She opened her eyes, and saw the orange visor of the Demon.

"Tira Kehrim?" he asked, his tone calm. Tears ran from Tira's face as she nodded, and she collapsed onto her knees, her arms falling to her sides as the armored Spartan released her. The Demon looked around, scanning the room. "Where is R'vek?" Tira looked up at him, her face wet with tears.

"He… He's dying," she whispered, her voice meek. "He needs… he needs your help. Please, I know that you must have no love for our kind, but please, please help him!" she pleaded, desperate. "I'll do anything, but please, help hi—" The Demon raised his finger to in front of his visor, signaling for her to hush.

"Can you walk?" he asked, looking at the wound in her leg. Tira nodded, holding back pain. "Then I can carry him out." Tira looked up at the Demon in disbelief: how could someone who could kill so easily be so kind? Without warning, Tira jumped up, and wrapped the Spartan in a hug, his immense, nearly 8 foot frame making her 7'6" seem small. The Spartan stepped back caught off guard, his arms wide.

"Thank you…"whispered Tira, her voice happy for the first time in a long time. The Spartan calmed down, and assumed a military stance.

"Cortana?" he said into his mic, his tone calm. "Signal Kwakap; tell him we're going to need a stretcher and a crutch."

* * *

Tyf sat back in her chair aboard the dropship, leaning back against the reclining chair's cushions, her hands clasping the back of her head.

"Damn, R'vek," she whispered, silently cursing the Sangheili. "You're slowing the whole thing down!" That morning, when everyone had woken up, they found that a suit of armor was missing from the supplies along with several weapons. Because he was gone, the team had been waiting to pick up movement again, mainly to see if R'vek would return with any useful information. The door behind Tyf slid open, and a human Marine stepped through, delivering a message.

"Command says we have to pick up camp," said the man calmly, his voice military. Tyf spun around in the chair, lifting her legs off of the dashboard and resting them on the floor, careful not to jar her injured leg too badly. She'd had a chance to get it healed by Q'tari, their field medic, but Tyf didn't exactly trust the odd Sangheili.

"Well, I'll tell you what," she said, her voice cynical. "Command can shove it; I don't answer to them, and my craft is staying well where it is until R'vek gets back." The Marine muttered a few curses as he left, and Tyf stuck out her third finger at him, scowling. "Yeah, you too!" she said, sticking her tongue out at the Marine as he left. Suddenly, she heard commotion outside. Tyf spun around to face the window, tapping at the controls of the ship and readying its turrets. There was movement in the brush, and as it drew closer, Tyf's finger tightened on the fire button. Suddenly, a strange group led by an Unggoy walked into the clearing. The Unggoy was facing away from the ship, into the bushes, and as it drew closer,Tyf's eyes widened. "Holy…" she breathed as she saw the group come into vision. The Unggoy was carrying one end of a makeshift stretcher made from leaves, and R'vek lay on the stretcher, his body covered in blood. A Sangheili woman wearing torn clothing that had been reduced to rags limped along side the stretcher, using a crutch to walk. But none of that was what surprised the Kig-Yar. No, it was the person carrying the other end of the stretcher. The man carrying the other end was clad in emerald armor, his orange visor glinting in the sunlight. He was far taller than most humans, standing at nearly eight feet in height, and a pair of Jiralhanae guns hing at his waist. It was the Demon.

John 117 had returned.

* * *

Innocence entered the bloodied room in his hover-chair, scowling. How could Mortis have been so stupid? Ah, well, none of it really mattered now. Innocence grinned, and pulled a small vial from within the folds of his robe, staring at the tiny, brown insect that skittered angrily within. This was what he had been working on, what he had experimented and tortured F-78 to create, and what would be the realization of his goals. As he drew nearer to Mortis' dead body, Innocence held the vial out in front of him, over the edge of his chair; it was a more refined strain than he had given the Yanme'e queen; instead of corrupting Mortis' body, it would restore life and enhance strength, speed… and obedience. Innocence dropped the vial, and it shattered on Mortis' chest. The small insect burrowed into the corpse's flesh, and a few moments later, Moris' eyes flicked open. His words were thus:

"How may I serve the Grand Prophet?"

* * *

Innocence can control the Flood. MUAHAHAHAHAHAAA!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever-changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	14. Recovery

Ok, hello everyone!

Sorry about the long gap in updates; I've been quite busy lately. Hopefully updates will pick up again at the beginnning of the school year.

Anyways, little to say here; on with the show!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Tira sat by R'vek's bedside, gently holding his hand in hers, her delicate fingers wrapped around his palm. He was a pitiful sight; a baglike mask was wrapped around his face, a long tube leading from it to an oxygen tank, and various needles and monitors were all over his body. His many wounds were covered in bandages, and his skin was pale, almost white from lack of blood. The battered Sangheili's muscled chest rose and fell slowly with his breathing, swelling largely every so often.

"R'vek…" whispered Tira, staring at her mate's battered form. "Don't die…" Tira shut her eyes, choking back tears. _What did we do to deserve this?_ She thought, angry. _Why must R'vek always bear such a burden? Why must he be always be so tormented? _Tira opened her eyes, and saw that her knuckles had whitened in her anger. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up; the Demon stood next to her, his orange visor looking down on her face.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice rough and calm. "He lived through a battle with me in it; this won't kill him." Tira smiled at him, and looked back at R'vek. "Your husband is a very brave man," said the Demon, and Tira smiled, stroking R'vek's cheek softly.

"He always was."

* * *

R'vek groaned as he woke, his eyes opening slowly. As he opened his eyes, his vision was incredibly blurry; all he could see were a group of vague, blurred white shapes.

"Where am I?" he groaned, and to his surprise, his voice seemed distant and quiet. "Am I dead?" R'vek looked around, still unable to see. He tried to sit up, and felt a searing pain in his gut. R'vek clutched his stomach, slowly lying back down. "Didn't think I could hurt while being dead…" As he lay back down, R'vek's vision began to clear. He was in a white tent, lying in a white bed with similarly colored sheets draped over his body. As his mind cleared, he noticed that something was clasping his hand. He looked around, and saw Tira sitting at his bedside, her slender hands wrapped around one of his. She had fallen asleep in her chair, and sat slumped over, her mouth slightly open as she breathed rhythmically in and out. R'vek smiled, and sat up, removing the mask from his face and gently stroking Tira's face. She smiled lightly in her sleep, unconsciously leaning into his hand. R'vek drew her in closer, gently lifting her into the bed with him, being careful not to wake her. She moaned softly in her sleep as he lay her down, and R'vek drew the covers over her, enveloping her in a warm embrace. The Sangheili warrior smiled, and slowly slipped into blissful sleep.

_

* * *

_

R'vek ran through a grass-covered field, holding Tira's hand with her following close behind them. They were naked, and the sun felt amazing on R'vek's skin. Here, his war-scarred body was a memory, replaced by a smooth and whole form, and his mind was, for the first time since the War, was at peace.

_As they ran, they reached an orchard of fruit trees, ripe, red melons hanging from their branches. Tira laughed, and the pair stopped, plucking fruit from the trees boughs, and biting through the juicy rinds. Pink-purple juice dribbled down their necks as the succulent fruit passed down their gullets, and Tira walked towards R'vek slowly, her hips swaying slightly, her naked body glistening in the sunlight, She wrapped him in a hug, and pressed her body into his, resting her neck on his shoulder. R'vek returned the embrace, closing his eyes in bliss._

_Suddenly, the sky darkened. R'vek looked around, and saw that the orchard had spread around them, the trees now sinister and menacing. Something flashed in between the trees; the chair of a Prophet; and a sinister cackling was heard throughout the wood. R'vek felt Tira's body part from his, and his head whipped around in surprise. Tira stood 10 feet from him, her skin shifted in tint to a slight brown. Her eye sockets were empty, and black liquid dripped from them. R'vek's eyes widened in terror, and he stared at the walking corpse of his beloved._

"_You didn't save me, R'vek," she said, her voice sad. "Why? Why didn't you come for me?" R'vek stumbled back in terror as two gaping wounds appeared in her chest, and her hearts melted before his eyes._

"_No, this isn't right, this can't be!" shouted R'vek in anguish. "I killed Mortis, I did save you, Tira!" R'vek fell to his knees, and a Prophet emerged from the trees, hovering close behind Tira's body. A strange Brute followed him. The Jiralhanae's flesh was mottled and brown, but not deformed like a normal Flood form. Half of its face was scarred and burned, and as R'vek watched, the flesh melted away, revealing raw, red flesh with a melted eye dribbling down its cheek: Mortis. R'vek backed away, and tried to run, but more Flood forms shambled out of the jungle. As he looked on in horror, R'vek began to recognize them; Zek, Jyn, R'tak, Ir'kas, and others whom he had fought alongside. He backed away in horror, and the terrible apparitions drew closer._

"_Why, R'vek, why?" said Tira. The Flood closed on him, their hands outstretched, and –_

R'vek sat bolt upright in his bed, unleashing a feral scream from his chest. Tira shouted, her body going rigid under the covers next to him, and she shouted in surprise as her eyes snapped open, almost tumbling out of the bed.

"R'vek, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned for her mate's health. "Are you hurt?" R'vek panted, closing his eyes tightly before opening them again. The muscles in his body were rigid, and his skin was coated in a lather of cold sweat.

"I… I'm fine…" he panted, trying to calm down. "It was just… just a nightmare." Tira hugged R'vek, and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her body against his chest, pushing his fingertips into her back, his arms tight around her, as though he was afraid that she would vanish.

Tira patted R'vek's back, gently rubbing her delicate hands in small circles over his scarred flesh. "Hush," she whispered soothingly, "I'm here. Everything will be alright." Suddenly, the door-flap of the medical tent was flung open, and Zek stumbled in, panting.

"What's wrong? I heard a shou-oh," he said, finishing his sentence awkwardly as the pair of young Sangheili in the bed turned to look at him. Tira blushed slightly; this was not the most comfortable situation. "Look, if you two want a moment alone, that's alright," stammered Zek, as he backed out of the tent, "just try not to be so loud! It's not like the whole camp needs to hear what's going on in there!" Before R'vek and Tira could correct him, Zek was gone. R'vek turned to look at Tira, and holding hands, they stepped out of the bed. As they did, however, Tira's eyes went wide, her glance slowly flitting to, and away from, R'vek's groin as she blushed deeply. R'vek looked down, and his cheeks flushed a deep purple: the blanket had fallen when he had gotten out of bed. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, except for one thing: he was naked.

* * *

Tira turned around as she heard the rasping of the tent flap opening behind her. R'vek stepped from the entrance to the canvas structure, smiling and wearing a new suit of armor that had been brought to him earlier. His old suit had been utterly destroyed in his battle with Mortis and the other Jiralhanae in the tower while he was rescuing her, and was unable to be repaired. For now, R'vek would have to do with an entirely new set of armor, and one that was missing the cape he customarily wore. At his side hung a plasma rifle, three plasma grenades, a pair of frag grenades, and a plasma pistol; typical gear for a Sangheili soldier. R'vek smiled as he saw his mate in her new clothes; it was comforting to see her out of the bloodstained and shredded rags she had been in when he had rescued her. Now, she wore a thin dress that came down to just above her knees. It was of a faded pink material, and had a single band around the waist, holding the garment tightly to Tira's form, the fabric flowing gently over her breasts and around her hips, accenting her female form wonderfully. R'vek hugged Tira and lifted her from the ground, twirling her in the air before setting her back on the ground once more, affectionately pressing his forehead against hers.

"You look beautiful," he said, truly stunned by his mate's appearance. "Where did you get the dress? I didn't know we had any such cargo with us." Tira smiled, rubbing her hands over R'vek's strong chest, sliding them across his armor and onto his back. She grinned, realizing the truth: R'vek was, quite literally, her knight in shining armor.

"Some of the Guardians brought extra clothes from home. One of them had this sent to me." R'vek's eyes grew distant, and Tira sensed something troubling him. "R'vek?" she asked, worried for him. Lately, there had been more pain in his life than there was happiness; was it taking a toll on his psyche? "R'vek, what's wrong?"

"Home…" he muttered, his voice distant. Tira looked up into his eyes, concerned.

"R'vek… what aren't you telling me?" R'vek looked into Tira's eyes, preparing himself for the news he was about to deliver.

"Tira…" he said, his voice stern, "Sanghelios is dead." Tira's eyes widened and she took a step back, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Sanghelios, our _home_, is dead, and it's _MY FAULT!" _R'vek spun around as he yelled, tearing a strip of cloth from the tent in his rage. Tira looked at him, unsure of what to think.

"R'vek, what do you mean?" she whispered, shocked at the news. R'vek turned to face her, tears budding in his eyes.

"I failed, Tira," he said, his voice quivering. "I failed. On my mission, I… I couldn't contain the Parasite. It was too much for my men and I; we were overwhelmed. I was the only one of the twelve Sangheili who returned alive that day. Because of my failure, the Parasite swarmed across Sanghelios, our homeworld, consuming us, weakening our defenses, and forcing us to flee… right into a waiting fleet of Jiralhanae." R'vek paused, his voice shaky. "They knew, Tira. Nay, they more than knew; they _arranged_ the situation! The Jiralhanae shot down civilian transport ships, killing billions!" R'vek paused, and turned away from his wife, unable to face her any more. "At the end of that dark day, only a few precious thousand Sangheili left our world alive, likely never to return." Tira stared at him in shock, unable to absorb the terrible news. Tears budded in her wide, terrified eyes before flowing freely down her face. She ran towards R'vek, and collapsed into his body, crying, weeping openly for the loss of her home, and of any chance she and R'vek ever had to return to even some vague semblance of a normal life after her ordeal. R'vek held her close to his body, trying to comfort both her and himself. They were two souls lost in the galaxy, made utterly and completely alone by the trauma and the terrors they had faced. Now, Tira had learned that her home, and with it, the life she once knew, was gone forever. Suddenly, the paid heard footsteps approaching, and they looked up, trying to regain their composure. A Guardian clad in crimson armor adorned with small ridges and with a long, black cape attached to its back with a gold insignia woven into the fabric.

"R'vek Kehrim," stated the red-clad Sangheili, his posture military. "You and your mate must come with me. The Grand Arbiter wishes to speak to you."

* * *

Gasp! What could the Arbiter want R'vek for!

Find out in the next installment of... The Ring!

lolz, first chapter without any real violence.

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever shifting patterns.

- Baeowulf


	15. Punishment

Hey guys!

short chapter today; sorry about lack of updates, computer broke down and school was evil.

and now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Tira held onto R'vek's armor as though it were for the preservation of her very life as they followed the red-clad Guardian toward the HQ of the small military camp, her slender fingers digging into the spaces between the plates of her mate's armor_. "How many days have passed since his last mission?_" she thought to herself, wondering. The last time R'vek had been summoned by the Arbiter, they had been torn apart, and each of them nearly killed. What was to become of them now? "_It's not fair!"_ thought the young Sangheili, suppressing her anger and sorrow, remembering the severe trauma that R'vek, and now she, had faced. Suddenly, the trio drew to a halt. Tira looked up. They had stopped in front of a large metal structure: it was a dome in shape, with four doors evenly spaced around its base. At the top, a satellite dish rotated, and a small Unggoy worked at the base, a welding mask oddly attached over his breathing mask, intently focused on his work. The red Guardian turned to face them; he was an immense Sangheili, standing almost a full foot taller than R'vek. The Guardian motioned towards the door, and R'vek strode towards it, eyes grim. As the door slid closed behind him, Tira stepped forward to follow. The Guardian placed his arm in front of her, stopping her moving towards the base. Tira looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"…Let me pass…" she whispered, trying, and failing, to sound confident. The Guardian stared down at her, indifferent to her plea.

"My orders are to allow only the soldier R'vek Kehrim in to audience with the Arbiter. None else may pass," he said, his deep voice cold and uncaring. Tira snapped. The young Sangheili woman threw herself upon the Guardian, beating his chest with her fists.

"No!" she screamed, trying to force her way past the immovable Guardian. "Let me be with him! I need to be with him!" Tira sobbed, desperately trying to get passed the Guardian and through the door. The Guardian shoved her away from him, and tensed his fists, the armor plates on his fingers forming a single smooth surface.

"Lady Kehrim," he said, his voice respectful, yet menacing, "I have stated my orders, and I am authorized to use force to ensure their enactment. Do not make me use it on a woman." Tira backed away, her face pained. The guardian was right; as a male, and as a member of the standing military, his status was higher than hers. She could do nothing against him. "Lady Kehrim," said the guardian, the menace dropping from his voice, "I understand your pain, but my orders are my orders. I may not let you, nor anyone else, enter this building unless the survival of the camp is at risk. Whatever happens inside headquarters is beyond my control." The Guardian tapped a small button on his armor, and suddenly Tira felt the grip of two soldiers on her arms, dragging her away from the building. She screamed and kicked, trying to break free, but to no avail. As she was dragged away, the red clad Guardian stared at her. "The fate of your husband is in the hands of the Grand Arbiter now."

* * *

R'vek Kehrim knelt before the seat of the Arbiter, one of his arms crossed behind his back, the other crossed over his chest. The Arbiter of the Human-Covenant Wars, Thel Vadam, looked down at him from his command seat, considering the warrior kneeling before him.

"R'vek Kehrim," he said his voice grim, almost sad. R'vek's eyes twitched at hearing his name knowing that nothing good could come of the Arbiter's tone.

"Yes, my Lord?" asked the young warrior, steeling himself for his fate. The Arbiter stood, and before he could react, R'vek felt his arms seized by two Sangheili warriors, pinning him in a kneeling position. The Arbiter activated his plasma sword, its blue light casting an eerie glow over the chamber.

"R'vek Kehrim," restated the Arbiter, drawing closer to R'vek, "despite your actions towards the preservation of our race during the fall of Sanghelios, the surviving Kaidon of our world sought someone to blame." Thel Vadam sighed, shaking his head. "Since the fall of the Covenant, our world has seen the rise of filthy bureaucrats to power, little more than rats in the guise of noble blood. They saw the report of your last mission, and demanded your death." The Arbiter straightened his back, and poised his sword over R'vek's neck, its tip 2 feet directly above the young warrior's flesh. "R'vek Kehrim, I am to execute you upon this day. I am sorry, my Brother; my blade is damned for this." R'vek allowed his head to hang limp on his neck, resigning himself to defeat and death.

"So, I am to die in dishonor and shame," whispered R'vek, a single tear running down his face. "It is more than I deserve." R'vek waited for the lethal strike. Thel Vadam scowled, and brought his sword down, driving it deep into the metal floor.

* * *

A moment of silence for the fallen hero.

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	16. Promotion

Hello again!

Ugh, I'm not feeling well; been sick all day and yesterday.

On the bright side, it gave me time to write! :P

So, it would seem that R'vek Kehrim has met his fatal end. How will Tira cope? What impact will it have on the mission? Will there be political repurcussions?

Read on, and discover.

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

S'karr stood calmly outside the headquarters building of the camp, his red armor gleaming in the sun. Truly, this enormous ring was strange, but it was not his place to wonder about such things; as a Guardian, it was his duty to uphold the word of the Arbiter; his orders were what mattered. S'karr remembered to the only time he had ever disobeyed orders; it was a dark day in his memory. He had killed many that day, and only the grace of the Grand Arbiter Thel Vadam had saved him from execution.

_Still_, he wondered, pondering the arrest of Lady Kehrim he had silently ordered just a few minutes prior, _Is it really necessary to separate her from her mate? Perhaps…_ S'karr shook his head; orders were to be followed; he had learned that much. The Sangheili Guardian resumed his military posture, standing guard as stoically as any M'glekgolo. He was a soldier; orders must be upheld.

* * *

Tira sat back in her tent, her eyes wide in shock and trauma. Her hands trembled in her lap as the walls seemed to close in around her. Psychologically, she was a mess. Her imprisonment and torture at the hands of the Jiralhanae had not been kind to her psyche, and now, with her second separation from R'vek… her fragile mental state had broken down.

The young Sangheili woman took a few deep breaths, steadying herself, and recovering her composure. _I must be strong,_ she resolved, curling her delicate fingers into lightly balled fists. _For R'vek_.

* * *

R'vek Kehrim closed his eyes as the Arbiter's blade descended towards his neck, tears running down his face. Time seemed to slow as the blade descended towards him, the deadly sword moving forward to sever his life. _I am sorry, Tira_, was the last thought to cross through his mind before he felt the blade pass his head on its descent.

R'vek exhaled sharply, expecting death. It took the young warrior a few seconds to realize that it had not come. Slowly, R'vek Kehrim opened his eyes: the blue energy blade was embedded into the steel floor of the room next to him, its blade embedded halfway into the metal, dangerously close to his neck. Slowly, he felt the grip of the soldiers on his arms relax, until his hands fell heavily to the floor. R'vek stayed kneeling, and slowly glanced up at the Arbiter, before once again averting his eyes.

"My Lord," R'vek whispered, his hearts pounding in his breast, "I am not dead…" The Arbiter's eye twitched, betraying a slight smile, before his face resumed his grim expression.

"R'vek Kehrim, the Kaidon have ordered your execution, and as the hand of the Sanghelian government, I must carry it out. However, to this extent, I am allowed a certain force of my own: the Guardians; distinguished brothers and sisters of our world whom are mine alone to command… and mine alone to punish." Thel Vadam paused, considering his next words carefully. "Only once before have I acted against the orders of the Kaidon to spare the life of another; today I shall act against them again. R'vek Kehrim you have a choice to make: though the fault is not yours, you blame yourself for the destruction of Sanghelios; it is a heavy burden to bear. However, you have shown yourself to be an individual of courage, honor, remorse, and ingenuity not only in the attack on Sanghelios, but during the Covenant-Human war as well. Now, you may either submit to the council of the Kaidon and die dishonored," Thel Vadam paused, and R'vek looked up at him, almost unable to believe what came next, "or you may take your place at my side, as the Sangheili Guardian of Remorse." R'vek's eyes widened, and his jaws parted slightly in shock as he took in the incredible news. Militarily, he slammed his fist across his chest, lowering his head and straightening his knees.

"I would be honored to join your force my Lord," he said solemnly, eyes shut. "I am yours to command; my mind is your scroll, and my body is your blade. I swear my allegiance to you, Grand Arbiter." R'vek went silent as he finished the oath, waiting for something to happen. He heard the shuffling of feet as others entered the room, and nervously, he awaited a command.

"Rise, Guardian of Remorse!" he heard the Arbiter call, and R'vek stood opening his eyes. As he did, he saw that the twenty Guardians of Sanghelios had formed a ring around him, each with a different color and design of armor with an ornate and unique sword hilt hanging at their belts. In front of him knelt an Unggoy squire, presenting a large steel case to him. Cautiously, R'vek reached forward, and pressed a single button on the case. The lid flipped open, and inside was a gleaming suit of dark, purple armor, beautiful blue glyphs sweeping along its design alongside ornate ridges and etchings. On either side of the armor lay a sword, the two glistening hilts beautifully carved to perfection. R'vek drew one of the swords out of the case, and ignited it. Instantly, a beautiful purple blade shot out from the hilt, extending a good length from the base of the blade. It was slightly longer than a standard blade, and spiraling hand-guards swept down from either side to protect his fingers. As he held the blade aloft, gazing at it in wonder, R'vek heard the other Guardian's assume military stance, their arms in salute. As one, they chanted, welcoming R'vek to their ranks.

"Hail, Guardian Remorse!"

"Hail, Guardian Remorse!"

"Hail, Guardian Remorse!"

* * *

R'vek Kehrim slid the ornate helmet on over his head, fastening it to the armor that arched up to protect the back of his neck. As he did, he looked up, gazing at himself in the mirror. The armor was beautiful; the purple material covering his body tightly, He was amazed at how flexible it was; it was obvious that whoever had designed this had taken great care in observing his combat style. The armor was lightweight and fitted perfectly over his body, allowing a great deal more mobility than the armor normally given to Sangheili soldiers, which had always felt off to him in its bulk and stiffness. He flexed his arms, and the many small plates on his arms expanded slightly with his muscle.

"Marvelous," whispered the young Sangheili, amazed at the armor he wore. As he observed it, he chuckled; the sweeping blue glyphs patterned onto his armor weren't just ornate designs; they gracefully followed the path of the scars on his old armor. There was even a trio of large, bright glyphs at his shoulder, each engraved in a small depression in the armor, that were exactly where he had been shot by the Demon of the Covenant-Human war. R'vek heard the doors behind him open, and the elderly Unggoy who had given him the armor and the swords entered the room, a small black box under his arm.

"Unggoy," said R'vek casually, turning as the small creature approached him, "Who designed this armor?" The old Unggoy casually set the box down on the chair that stood next to R'vek, and began tapping a sequence of keys on its surface.

"I did, my Lord," he replied as he finished the sequence. "I am Dadat, squire to the Guardians. I have designed the armor for each of them." R'vek's eyes widened; an Unggoy had crafted the elegant suit of armor he wore? Dadat laughed, and he opened the box, pulling out a folded piece of black and purple cloth, handing it to the awestruck Sangheili. "I know, you're surprised a member of my race could design something like that; all the others were too. Don't worry; I'm not offended; old stereotypes die hard, and the Covenant certainly placed many of those upon my people." R'vek took the fabric, and as he did, it unfolded in his hand. It was an ornate, beautiful cape, with specially designed clasps that fitted into slots on his shoulder plates. Dadat chuckled as he reclosed the box, and handed it to R'vek. "I'm rather excited to have had the opportunity to design for you, my Lord," chuckled the old Unggoy.

"Really?" asked R'vek as he took the black box. "Why is that? There are certainly more interesting soldiers of the Guardians than I." Dadat nodded, but his eyes still held a smile.

"Ah, but you are the first of the Guardians to be married upon induction," he said, his voice content. "This is the first time I have had the opportunity to not only design for a Guardian, but also garb for his wife to match his armor!" R'vek smiled, and placed a hand on Dadat's shoulder, entirely unsure of what he was doing.

"Dadat…" he said nervously, "thank you." The Unggoy smiled, his wrinkled brow creasing around his eyes.

"No need," he replied knowingly. "I have studied your background, Lord Kehrim; it is an honor to call you a member of the Guardians of Sanghelios." With that, Dadat turned, and left the room, leaving R'vek to think.

* * *

Tira sat on her bed, sobbing into her hands.  
"R'vek…" she whimpered. It had been at least an hour since he had been taken into the headquarters, and she had heard nothing from him. "I'm scared…" Tira covered her eyes, and cried into her hands, bitter sorrow washing through her body. The red Guardian's words had not been comforting: "The fate of your husband lies in the hands of the Arbiter now." Suddenly, Tira heard a noise from outside: the silhouettes of the two guards making sure she stayed put stood rigid at attention, and a third shadowed form approached from outside, the ridges on its armor making clear that it was a Guardian. Tira's hearts nearly stopped; good news could not come of this. Holding back her tears, Tira sat and waited for the inevitable.

* * *

R'vek strode confidently, yet somewhat in shock, towards him and Tira's tent, the small black box tucked under his arm. As he approached, however, he saw two Sangheili majors standing outside the tent flap. R'vek's brow knotted in worry; why were soldiers outside what stood for his home? R'vek picked up his pace, walking at a concerned hustle. As they saw him, the two majors stood at attention; his armor showed his rank.

"What are you doing here?" demanded R'vek, his tone harsh. The major to the left answered him.

"We were ordered to ensure that the Lady Kehrim stays inside her temporary residence until further notice," said the young soldier, saluting the Guardian of Remorse. R'vek's brow tightened in surprise and anger, and his pupils contracted.

"What!" he said, angry, "What for?" This time, the other major answered.

"No reason was given in our orders, my Lord;" he said calmly, "We were merely ordered to place Lady Kehrim under house arrest." R'vek pulled out the hilt of his sword, brandishing it menacingly.

"Go…NOW," he said, his voice soft, but grave. The two majors nodded, and walked off in opposite directions. R'vek watched them leave, angry, before taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down. With a deep breath, R'vek pushed apart the tent flaps, and entered.

* * *

Tira looked down at her lap as she heard the third form enter the mostly soundproofed tent, not wanting to show the Guardian her weakness. _I have to be strong,_ she thought, _for… for R'vek._ The Guardian placed a hand on her shoulder, and her hearts nearly broke.

"So… so he's… he's dead then…" she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. Tira felt the Guardian's hand tighten on her shoulder, and she could have sworn that his body shuddered.

"Tira…" he whispered, his voice pained, "It's me…" Tira looked up at the Guardian, confused. The man wore a suit of dark, purple armor, with blue glyphs running across its surface. A black and purple cape hung from his shoulders. The soldier's face was shadowed by his ornate helmet, and his face wore a pained expression. Suddenly, Tira's eyes widened: was it really him?

"R'vek..?" she whispered, eyes wide. The Guardian nodded, and she leaped up onto him, wrapping him in a tight embrace, tears running freely down her face. "By the Forerunners! I was so scared," she whispered, sobbing. "I thought… I thought they had killed you.." Tira cried into R'vek's shoulder, and he hugged her tightly, running his hands over her back, tears running freely from his eyes. "I was so worried…"

"It's alright, my love," whispered R'vek, gently soothing his mate, "I'm fine." For a moment, the two simply stood there, taking comfort in each other's presence. Finally, R'vek set Tira down, keeping his hands on her shoulders as they gazed into each other's eyes. Tira glanced at R'vek's armor, then back up to his face.

"What happened in there?" she asked, trying to regain her composure. R'vek grinned, wiping at his eyes with his gauntleted hand.

"The Arbiter was ordered to kill me," he said, and Tira's eyes widened in fear. "But he didn't; he saved me." R'vek paused, still finding the reality of it all hard to believe. "He made me a Guardian." R'vek looked at his mate, smiling, and slowly, a broad smile spread across Tira's face. Suddenly, she leaped into his arms, and the young Guardian lifted his wife off the floor, twirling her delicate body in the air as they laughed, tears of relief, bewilderment, and joy streaming down their faces. R'vek set Tira down, and she rubbed her head against his neck passionately.

"R'vek, I'm so happy for you," she said, smiling. "You've finally done it." R'vek grinned, and the two parted; smiling. Tira allowed her eyes to wander over R'vek's armor; it truly was magnificent to behold. R'vek grinned.

"You like the armor?" he asked, smiling. Tira nodded, and R'vek picked up the black box he had been carrying before. "It was made by an Unggoy." Tira's eyes widened in shock; how could an Unggoy craft something so beautiful? "And," continued R'vek, presenting the box to Tira, "he made something for you as well." Tira cautiously opened the box, and lifted out an elegant dress, woven of silken material in varying shades of purple and black, ranging from dark violet to soft lilac colors, all bordered with intricate black designs. Tira smiled, at R'vek, and the two embraced, merely enjoying the moment. For the first time in too long, all was right with the world.

* * *

Deep below the surface of the gargantuan halo, a small metal orb watched an array of monitors, carefully observing the myriad of organic being milling about the surface. Seeming disappointed, it turned and hovered away, floating off into the dark recesses of its lair.

The parasite was on The Ring.

It was to be eliminated... at any cost.

* * *

Haha, psyche! R'vek's not dead; he got promoted! I do love me some tricky loopholes... lol

But wait; what is this mysterious machine beneath the surface? Something tells me it is of less than benevolent intentions...

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	17. Quiet

Hello again dear readers! I apologize for my long haiatus; school has been keeping me very busy, and with all the things that have been going on, I have not been able to find inspiration for my writing. However, recently, inspiration has struck me once more, and so I have produced another chapter in the tale of R'vek Kehrim and company!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

Innocence paced slowly on board the Jiralhanae ship, scowling. The equipment fitting for Mortis was taking too long; why couldn't the armor-smiths work faster? The hiss of pneumatic tubes sounded from behind him, and Innocence turned to face the door. _Finally_, he thought, irritated by the ridiculous amount of time it was taking the brutish creatures that served as his army. As Mortis entered the room, a wicked grin spread across Innocence's face; it had been worth the wait. The horrific half-Flood soldier he had created stood before him, clad in black and gold armor, lined with serrated, sweeping ridges along the pauldrons and kneecaps. Heavy gauntlets encased Mortis' fists and forearms, and its fingers ended in razor sharp claws. A sleek helmet closed around his head, with a thin slit for the eyes and face carved into the metal, a retractable visor hidden in the thick skull-plate. A large hole had been blasted in the faceplate over Mortis' empty eye socket, the edges of the metal bent and scorched, giving the face a horrific, terror inspiring appearance. On Mortis' back, a beautiful, terrifying, elegant weapon hung, it's long hilt protruding past his shoulder and its two-bladed head visible from behind him: it was a prototype, a union between the brutal gravity hammer and the deadly edge of a plasma sword. A revival of an ancient weapon not used for millennia, the War Axe was truly awe inspiring. Mortis dropped to his knee from his towering height, lowering his head in respect for the ancient San'Shyuum that was his master. Innocence approached him, nodding slightly, his eyes narrowing; Mortis was the perfect weapon.

"Tell me, Blessed One," said Innocence, invoking the oratory skills he had developed as a priest, "do you know the mission the Forerunners have bestowed upon you?" Mortis looked up at him, his black eyes blank.

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

R'vek slammed his back against a large boulder, peering out from his cover into the dense jungle. A soft breeze rustled through the thick underbrush and canopy, casting shifting, mottled shadows across the dirt floor. Large roots crisscrossed across the jungle floor, and the calls of a myriad of birds could be heard from the trees. Tentatively, R'vek stood, and finally, not seeing any danger, signaled the all clear. A number of other Guardians emerged from the brush behind him; three males, one in orange, one in red, and one in black, and one female, her armor a soft rose color. The guardian in orange stepped forward, casually holding his heavy flamethrower in one hand. Hi helmet covered his face, and a pair of tubes ran from the faceplate to a filter mounted on his back. The guardian tapped a button on the side of his helmet, and his faceplate split apart into four separate pieces, withdrawing into his helmet. Chaos stood next to R'vek, glancing about into the jungle, his scarred face twisted into a crooked smile.

"Forerunners, where are they?" he said, almost laughing. "I knew the Jiralhanae to be dishonorable scum, but cowards too?" Chaos lifted his head to the sky, letting out a primal roar. "WHERE ARE YOU?" he shouted, almost laughing as he spoke. The red clad guardian, Order, grabbed Chaos' shoulder, turning him around, and glaring him in the eyes from behind his crimson facemask.

"Quiet, Chaos," said Order in a low, slightly menacing tone. "If they are indeed here, then we need not alert them to our presence." The black armored guardian scoffed.

"Let them come," he said, his deep voice emanating from behind a black, ridged mask carved to look like a skull as he rested his plasma mini-gun against his shoulder. "I hunger for the blood of those who destroyed my home!" Order turned towards him, his expression hidden behind his expressionless mask. The two walked towards each other, pacing, each maintaining a tight grip on his weapon. Suddenly, the female spoke.

"Order, Death, stand down," she said, her tone calm and collected. "We don't need to be killing each other before we even see what we're going up against. Remember; the Jiralhanae aren't the only threat. Remorse fought some sort of creature out here before; he… Remorse?" The rose armored guardian turned towards R'vek. The purple clad Sangheili was staring out at the ruined form of the tower, his fingers dancing on the hilt of his energy sword. Chaos laughed.

"Looks like our new recruit's busy thinking, Passion," he cackled, hoisting his weapon with both hands. "Maybe he knows something we don't?" Passion placed her hand on R'vek's shoulder, taking a combat ready stance next to him, her free hand resting gently on the needler she wore at her waist. R'vek snapped out of his daze, and turned to regard the other guardians.

"… I'm sorry," he said, "I was lost in thought…." Order walked up to him.

"Do you have something to tell us, Remorse?" said the red-clad guardian, his tone crisp and military. R'vek nodded.

"The Jiralhanae set up a base, take prisoners, and when attacked, show no true signs of resistance?" R'vek said, half to himself. "This doesn't make any sense; what's really going on here?"

* * *

Innocence sat aboard his flagship, gazing out upon the enormous, distant ring, and the Alliance ships that swarmed about it like hornets in the endless void of space. A small grin creased his blank face; they were so tiny from where he sat, many miles from them; they were so fragile. Innocence reclined in his seat, tapping his fingers together almost casually, yet coldly. He was safe inside the flagship; it was too far for his enemies to see him, and an advanced cloaking device shielded the ship from detection. Even if it was found, it was unlikely that any enemy ships would make it past the massive Jiralhanae armada that sat stationary behind him, deceptively silent in the void of space. To his right stood a monstrous abomination; Mortis.

"Shall I order the attack, Lord Prophet?" spoke the flood-corrupted Jiralhanae, his deep voice tainted by something… else. Innocence smiled.

"You may fire when ready."

* * *

R'tas Vadum stared out into open space. Merely a day prior, he had received report from the Grand Arbiter that the tower on the surface had been overtaken and destroyed by a joint effort on the part of the Demon and a single Sangheili warrior; according to the report, the tower had been extremely understaffed; merely a minor outpost. What bothered R'tas was that they hadn't seen any more enemy activity since their attack. The lack of activity unsettled him; strategically it made no sense, and R'tas remembered the Prophets as being smarter than this. Suddenly, one of the Kig-Yar manning a communications console spoke.

"Shipmaster," he said, nervously scanning the screen, "I'm picking up an unknown signature headed this way". The Kig-Yar hesitated, rechecking his instruments. "It's huge; I don't know how we missed it at first. It's… it's the size of a dreadnaught." R'tas stood from his seat, jumping down to the place where the Kig-Yar officer was entering information frantically into the console. The shipmaster crouched over the small alien's shoulder, peering intently into the screen. Suddenly, realization hit him. R'tas jumped up onto the center aisle that ran down the bridge, shouting.

"Battle stations! To your posts!" barked the veteran shipmaster as the bridge came alive with activity and shouted commands, the control crew recalibrating the shields, thrusters, and weapons for the threat of assault, and Sangheili minors took their places at the numerous turrets that lined the ship. Radio chatter echoed from all speakers as across the ship, hundreds of soldiers prepared for battle.

"Sir!" shouted the Kig-Yar officer, "Multiple signatures detected! They're numbering in the hundreds!"

"Alert the fleet!" R'tas Vadum picked up the comm. link. "ALL SHIPS PREPARE FOR ASSAULT!" R'tas moved towards the starboard viewport, gazing out into the void. "Why don't we have visual, yet?" he muttered under his breath. Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the ship, flinging R'tas ten feet across the floor and killing several lower officers. Coughing and clutching his side, R'tas stood, looking out the window, his mandibles spread in a pant, and his eyes widened. A massive forerunner vessel was approaching from the void of space, and behind it, hundreds of Jiralhanae ships dropped their cloaking and followed in perfect formation. From the massive vessels spewed thousands of fighters, and the huge armada fell upon the Alliance fleet without mercy.

* * *

Zek stared up at the night sky, his arms crossed behind his head. Billions of stars twinkled in the distance, countless worlds, countless beings scattered across the universe. He reached out, his single gloved hand blotting out dozens of stars, reaching across the void of space towards the vast unknown reaches of the galaxy. He sighed, letting his arm relax against the soft grass of the immense halo on which he lay. Not long after landing, they had learned that in order to simulate natural night and day cycles, the halo would twist upon itself, with the inner section of the massive ring replacing the outer once approximately every 30 hours. The vast expanse of undiscovered worlds, exotic goods and creatures lay just before him… and just out of reach.

"Where did I go wrong?" Zek sighed, pulling his hand back under his skull. Jyn turned towards him from where she lay on the hill; their recon duty had ended several hours ago, but with the intense pace of recent events, neither had felt they could rest, and so together they hid from sleep on a nearby hill, gazing into the stars as their people had done for millennia.

"What do you mean?" she said, raising a brow.

"Do you remember?" replied Zek, nearly lost in thought. "Before the war? Before the killing, and the chaos the Prophets led us into? Before the fighting and the loss?" Jyn nodded; they had both lost many friends to combat, and this philosophizing led to thoughts of before the violence began. "We were merchants," continued Zek, "explorers, pirates, traders, living for the sake of living. Our home was our ship, our family our crewmates, our destination anywhere our dreams propelled us towards." Zek smiled, a melancholy smile, full of irony and sadness. "The humans say that our people are like birds, and I can't say I disagree; true, we bear some superficial resemblance, but we long for the sky, for adventure in a world beyond our own. Well, the war's over now…" Zek's smile faded, his eyes gazing into the black oblivion, and a single tear forming in the corner of his eye. "But not for us. We're soldiers, pressed into service; now, we deal in death, and nothing else. We have had our wings clipped, forever denied the opportunity to discover the great beyond, to indulge in the flights of our ancestors." Jyn propped herself up on her elbows, looking at her mate intently. Normally, he was calm, collected, while at the same time cynical and sarcastic. However, that wasn't him; it was a mask forged by years of fighting, and on rare occasion, Zek opened himself for the world to see. Suddenly, Zek's body shuddered, and a tear ran down his face as his spines faded to a soft, deep blue in sorrow. "And at the time…" he choked out, "we wanted it." Jyn pulled herself over to where Zek lay and wrapped her arms around his body, enclosing him in a warm embrace. Before the war, Zek had been on the forefront of Kig-Yar mercantilism, striking out into the stars, uncovering new worlds and new goods, going where none had ventured before; but the war had made him a soldier, had taken his flight and replaced it with death. Suddenly, a bright light flared in the sky, and went dim. The two looked up, and Zek propped himself on his elbows, looking at the sky, puzzled. Another bright flash illuminated the sky, only this time, it was not alone. The small flash was followed by a massive burst of plasma, the crackling purple energy billowing and pluming in massive spheres before dissipating into the void. Zek's eyes widened in realization as the sky burst to life in brilliant flashes of orange, azure, and violet: the fleet was under attack.

* * *

Q'tari stared at the sky in abject terror as the brilliant colored flashes of light flew across the night sky.

"No… stop it… STOP IT!" she screamed, clamping her hands over her ears , half collapsed to the ground, crying hysterically as the soldiers in the camp rushed out to see what was going on. "Stop stop stop!" Q'tari began panting, her mandibles flaring with each hysterical breath. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her back. It was Tira Kehrim, the woman that R'vek had recently retrieved from the Tower. Q'tari looked up into her face, slightly bewildered. Tira looked back into her eyes, her face comforting.

"It's alright, it's alright," whispered the older woman even as soldiers rushed to their posts, humans and Sangheili milling frantically about the encampment. Tira stood, keeping Q'tari tucked under her arm, and guided the bewildered girl into a bunker, safe from the chaos outside. Suddenly, a scream was heard from outside. Tira looked through the window of the bunker… and a massive explosion burst from outside. The shockwave shattered the window, sending Tira flying back and smashing into a wall. Her head made a sickening crack as it impacted the steel wall, and she slid to the ground, her head hanging loosely on her long neck. Q'tari rushed towards her, shaking her frantically.

"Tira! Tira!" she shouted, almost like a child calling for her mother. Tira didn't respond. Q'tari rushed to the window, and her eyes widened as she saw heavy pairs of boots milling about the encampment; the Jiralhanae had arrived, and slowly, their leader emerged from the center of the crowd, shouting commands in his race's brutish, guttural language. He was clad in ebon armor, and carried a massive hammer in his hand as easily as if it were a doll, and Q'tari's hearts nearly stopped as she saw his face. Of all his features it was most recognizable, and it's scarred, burned surface brought a name rushing to Q'tari's mind, a name that, for her, was synonymous with fear.

"Mortis".

* * *

So, a bit of character development for Zek, and the shattering of the eerie peace our heroes have experienced thus far! What will happen to the fleet? Is Tira dead? Find out in the next installment of... The Ring!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


	18. Shatter

Hello again everyone!

I'm going to try to keep up the update schedule of once every week; let's see how that goes!

In any case, here's the next chapter; just another battle scene!

And now, we return to our feature presentation...

* * *

R'vek stared in terror as he saw the flames rising from the encampment and the sounds of gunfire reached his ears. The other guardians looked back towards the encampment, startled by the percussive sounds of combat that echoed through the dense jungle. R'vek's pace accelerated as he thought of Tira; she was still in there. Without warning, the Guardian of Remorse bolted off into the brush, ignoring the shouts of protest from the others, crashing through branches and leaves and leaping over fallen logs, allowing nothing to stop him in his single minded dash towards the makeshift base. As he reached the base, he was met with utter chaos. Tents were up in flames, and Jiralhanae, Sangheili, and human soldiers milled madly about the clearing. R'vek's heart nearly stopped as he saw his tent, Tira's tent, engulfed in fire, nearly nothing but ashes left. R'vek glanced about the encampment madly, and suddenly he heard a scream, one that sounded like the voice of the Sangheili girl he had found on the destroyed Forerunner vessel. Turning to look, R'vek saw a heavily armored Jiralhanae standing in front of a bunker, some sort of strange hammer in his hand; this must be the leader. Ignoring the other soldiers, R'vek charged the massive Jiralhanae, igniting both of his energy swords as he ran, their purple blades flickering silently to life, leaving violet trails of energy behind them. The Sangheili warrior leapt through the air at the Jiralhanae soldier… only to be met by a harsh blow of the hammer to his gut. The massive force smashed through his shields and knocked the breath out of him, sending R'vek flying through the air, and crashing to the ground some feet away. Staggered, the downed warrior rose shakily to his feet, looking up as the Jiralhanae warrior approached him. Two black, energized blades sprung from the sides of the hammer, transforming the blunt weapon in to a keen axe as they cracked to life, and he was dressed in ebon and gold battle armor. On his faceplate was blasted a hole to reveal an empty eye socket, and as he approached R'vek's hearts nearly stopped; he knew this soldier.

Mortis slid open his visor, retracting the metal into his helm and revealing his twisted, smiling face.

"Miss me?"

* * *

R'tas Vadum ran down the corridor of his vessel, energy blade in one hand, a plasma rifle in the other, firing down the corridor at the Jiralhanae Loyalists who pursued him. Much to his surprise, he had seen a few members of the Kig-Yar race among them as well; apparently not all of the stinking Jackals had known what was best for them after the war was over. The battered Sangheili warrior ran towards the end of the corridor, firing a few last shots through the door as he ran through and the door sealed. Most of the crew was either separated or dead, and as he activated the cooling system on his rifle, R'tas realized that he was entirely alone. Suddenly, he heard something coming from the pipes in the engine room. The Sangheili glanced about nervously, pointing his weapon at every spot the clicks issued from. Suddenly, one of the pipes burst, and a dead Kig-Yar fell from the pipe, her body chewed and mangled, but recognizable; she was one of the Shipmistresses who helped to command the fleet. R'tas stepped back in disgust; the Kig-Yar were bad enough alive, but in death they stank even worse. Suddenly, the dead female moved, her elbow popping unnaturally as her deformed corpse rose to its feet, shambling forward, brown pustules forming on her skin. Startled and revolted, R'tas fired five shots into the body's head, dropping it once more to the ground. The Shipmistress' head burst, splattering red fluids everywhere… and hundreds of insect-like flood poured from her shattered body. R'tas cried out in battle rage as he relentlessly opened fire on the horde, but even he was eventually overwhelmed, and the Sangheili warrior disappeared screaming under a wave of Flood.

* * *

Jyn lay on her belly on a hillside distanced from the camp, peering through the scope of her beam rifle. Things weren't looking good in the encampment; troops from both sides milled about in battle, with the Jiralhanae slowly pushing back the Sangheili and human defenders, slowly making their way towards the edges of the camp. The activity made it difficult for her to line up a good shot on her scope, and Jyn cursed under her breath; these Jiralhanae had new, tough armor; she would need a perfect shot to take one down.

Jyn steadied herself, and, holding her breath, centered the crosshair of her scope on the forehead of a Jiralhanae warrior in combat with a Guardian. Normally, the aqua armored guardian wouldn't have much trouble dealing with a Jiralhanae like this, but he had already sustained some serious damage fending off the superior numbers of the enemy, and had a slight limp in his left leg. Jyn pulled the trigger. A beam of pink energy lanced out from the nozzle of the rifle, speeding towards its target faster than Jyn could whisper "gotcha." The Jiralhanae's head burst as the beam lanced through his eye, splattering his brains in a thick line behind him. The Brute collapsed to the ground, dead, and Jyn grinned as the Guardian moved back to take a defensive position. Steadying her sights, Jyn fired off more shots, each one dropping a Jiralhanae to the ground. The Brutes began to glance about the encampment looking for their assailant, and as Jyn looked for her next target, she saw a massive, armored Jiralhanae beating the life out of a purple-armored Guardian: R'vek. Jyn lined up her shot, aiming directly for the hole in his helmet over an empty eye socket; this shot had to count. Jyn tightened her finger on the trigger… and felt a massive blow to her side shatter three of her ribs. Jym cried out in pain and surprise as the massive force propelled her through the air, sending her crashing down on her back two feet from her rifle. Clutching her side, the Kig-Yar desperately crawled towards her weapon. An immense metal foot came out of nowhere and slammed down on her arm, shattering the delicate bones like twigs. Jyn screamed in agony as the cold steel crushed her arm against the ground, staining the grass with her blood. A shimmer flickered through the air as the owner of the foot dropped its cloaking device and revealed itself. It was an enormous machine, moss and branches hanging from its body and huge metal claws present at the end of two long, dexterous arms. Its body resembled a sort of harness, and in the center, a small metal sphere bearing a single eye sat in the center. The monstrosity lifted its leg and placed its foot squarely on Jyn's chest, and the Kig-Yar gasped for breath as the machine crushed the air out of her lungs. The robot leaned over Jyn's face as she grappled desperately against its foot, trying futilely to lift the crushing weight on her chest, the machine's single eye peering into her face.

"Classification… Classification…" A robotic voice issued from the machine, a small rotary turret drawing a dot on Jyn's forehead with a laser pointer. Jyn's vision began to fade from lack of oxygen, and the machine turned blurry. Suddenly, the foot lifted slightly, removing most of its weight from Jyn's chest. Jyn gasped sharply, flooding her lungs with air, her vision returning to its natural razor-sharp clarity. Although she could breathe, the weight of the foot was still too much for her to move or to speak. "Classification… Species identified. Kig-Yar; sentient, primate mammal base with some avian and reptilian features; present upon the destruction of other installations including installation 00. Data… Data… Data lacking. Retrieving specimen for further study." Without warning, the turret shifted, the pointer lining up with Jyn's neck, and a small dart fired from its nozzle as the weight of the mechanical leg was lifted completely from her body. Jyn cried out in surprise, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the sedative poured into her veins and her vision darkened to black.

* * *

Mortis laughed as R'vek tumbled across the dusty ground, his axe hanging casually at his side, his booted foot slick with indigo blood. R'vek shakily dragged himself to his knees, blood issuing from his mouth as he clutched his battered stomach in pain.

"How – urgh!" shouted R'vek as Mortis drove his boot into his stomach, sending the half dead Sangheili rolling across the ground.

"What's the matter, R'vek?" laughed Mortis, activating his war axe. "No fight left in the great Sangheili Guardian?" Mortis walked over to R'vek, brutally driving his foot into the Sangheili's stomach as the downed warrior coughed up blood. "Too… weak… to… protect… Tira?" Mortis laughed brutally in between the blows, toying with his enemy before finishing him off. Suddenly, Mortis felt a hand tightly clasping his ankle, and heard the ignition of an energy sword. R'vek yanked hard on Mortis' leg, propelling himself up at an angle and driving the blade underneath Mortis' ribs and out his back. The seared flesh around the Jiralhanae's empty eye socket widened in shock, and R'vek stared at grimly at his faceplate.

"You…" panted R'vek, ignoring his shattered ribcage, "you have no right to speak of her!" For a moment, all was still. Then R'vek heard a deep, rumbling chuckle. The Sangheili took a step back, confused, before the chuckle exploded into a deep, guttural laugh and Mortis smashed him across the face with huge force, cracking one of R'vek's mandibles as he sent the Sangheili flying. R'vek lay on the ground, unmoving, breathing heavily, his eyes staring hatefully, defiantly, pleadingly at Mortis. The Jiralhanae walked towards R'vek, the violet energy sword still embedded in his chest, and grabbed R'vek by the arm, lifting him up into the air by his forearm so as to look the warrior in the eye. Retracting his faceplate, Mortis grinned as he squeezed his hand shut, shattering the bone in R'vek's arm, relishing in his victim's gurgled howl. Mortis tossed R'vek to the ground, and the defeated Sangheili slumped onto his knees, the fight knocked completely out of him. Mortis brought his axe to bear, raising it high above his head.

"And now, R'vek…" Mortis paused, his twisted face stretching into a contorted smile, "you die".

Time seemed to slow down. R'vek lowered his head in resignation, preparing his broken body for the blow, tears running freely from his eyes. The axe, glowing with black energy seemed to move through the air as if it were moving through thick jelly, the massive blade slowly getting closer to bisecting R'vek from head to groin. Suddenly, a massive explosion sounded from behind Mortis, and the Jiralhanae howled and stumbled forward, his axe smashing into the ground an inch from R'vek's body. The world resumed its normal pace, and the sounds of the battle flooded R'vek's ears, as well as a second explosion. R'vek looked at Mortis' back, and saw two scorch marks blasted into his armor, as well as a pink crystalline dagger embedded into the armor. The third and final dagger exploded, and with a quivering shudder, Mortis' shields dissolved completely. The Brute stood, angrily wielding his axe, and spun around. Behind him, a Kig-Yar soldier stood in a combat stance, a fine crystalline blade in each hand, clad in a tight fitting combat vest and pants.

Mortis lunged angrily at the jackal, swinging his axe wide as the agile Kig-Yar jumped out of the way, blades crossed defensively in front of his torso. Mortis was about to lunge again as a beam of pink energy streaked past his unshielded head, nearly splattering his brains all over the ground. Mortis ducked to the ground, watching for sniper fire, before he stood, spat at R'vek, and sprinted off towards his troops.

R'vek tried to stand, but his legs, weakened from blood loss, collapsed underneath him. His vision began to go cloud over, and as his eyes slowly slid shut, he saw the Kig-Yar approaching him, shouting words he could not hear. Finally, R'vek toppled over onto the dusty ground, slipping into the black void.

* * *

First canon character death :)

So, I'm leaving off here, with the fates of almost everybody left hanging in the balance!

Find out what happens in the next thrilling installment of... The Ring!

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


End file.
